


Finding Agape

by Dragons_Heart



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cinderella, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Character's Name Spelled as Yuri, Cinderella Elements, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Prince!Victor, Slow Burn, Unbetaed we die like men, Yuri Plisetsky referred to as Yura, reduced age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27184478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragons_Heart/pseuds/Dragons_Heart
Summary: Victor Nikiforov, prince and heir apparent of the kingdom of Rostelecom, has returned home from five long years abroad. But, his birthday must be celebrated before he can take the throne, and decisions must be made. Who is the devilish man that swept him off his feet? What about the commoner that warmed the heart of the Winter Prince? Can he choose between them? Or, can Eros and Agape exist in one person?
Relationships: Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri
Comments: 34
Kudos: 113





	1. Chapter 1

For most people, getting an education abroad was nothing more than wishful thinking. Getting an education on the opposite side of the world was simply insane.

But for Victor Nikiforov, crown prince and heir apparent of Rostelecom, it was an escape. For the last five years, he had been free to be himself. Sure, he would be addressed by his title at times, but he had been able to be just Victor. There were no tutors breathing down his neck, no etiquette lessons taking up his free time, no political meetings that bored him and went over his head.

(All important things, of course, but things that had irritated his sixteen year old self to a breaking point.)

It had been nice just to be another student in a far off school. His classmates treated him as a friend, not as someone to be worshipped or gawked at. And no one had cared which fork he ate with.

Yakov would have to forgive him for skipping the limo and fanfare in favor of public transportation so he could be hidden for a while longer.

The train ride from the airport into Rostelecom proper was relaxing. As much as he dreaded the attention to come, it was good to be home again. Victor watched as the familiar countryside sped past in a multicolored blur. It didn’t seem like all the leaves had fallen just yet, and the sky was still a bright blue, but there was enough brown and grey mixed in with the reds and yellows and oranges to tell that fall was nearing its end and winter was approaching.

Victor felt like he was bringing the season on himself, in a weird roundabout way. His 21st birthday was in just a few weeks, after the seasons changed officially. The court had dubbed him The Winter Prince when he was born. His mother had called him her little snowflake, and his father had jokingly called him Jack Frost. But that was years ago, before they passed and Yakov had to step from Chief Advisor to Regent.

But, even if his birthday had been different, he still felt he’d be the Winter Prince with his silver hair and crystal blue eyes and pale skin. Plus, he was happiest in the winter. He loved the snow and the ice and the way the sun made everything sparkle. He would always sneak out to skate when the ponds in the gardens froze over, even if he got lectured about the risks of the ice cracking. He had been made for winter. Or maybe winter was made for him.

“Excuse me!”

Victor’s heart lurched up into his throat and he glanced away from the window to the girl who had spoken to him. He thought he could make it home without being recognized, how had she—

“Can I pet your dog?”

Oh!

Victor chuckled and nodded, gesturing to the poodle that was laying on the bench seat beside him. “Of course! His name’s Makkachin.”

“Hi Makkachin!” the girl cooed, squatting down to ruffle the dog’s ears and fluffy fur. Makkachin lifted his head up, roused by the sudden attention but certainly not complaining. “Are you a good boy? I bet you are! I bet you’re the best boy for your dad! Yes!”

The girl thanked him after a few minutes and skipped back up to the front of the train car. Victor let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and glanced back out the window. Makkachin yawned and turned on the bench so his head was laying on his owner’s lap. Victor responded by resting his arm over the poodle’s back, his fingers pressing into his soft fur.

His eyes watched his reflection, glad his disguise seemed to be working. Not that it was so much of a disguise as it was just natural changes in his appearance and common clothes.

In the five years he’d been gone, he’d gone from being a lanky teenager to a tall young man with broad shoulders. His jawline was sharper, having lost his baby fat. He’d even cut his hair. The long hair he’d insisted on having as a teenager had suited him, but it had become a hassle to deal with and he lost the patience for it. Now it was short, with just enough length on the top to create movement and fringe that hung over his left eye. He remembered Chris crying when he told him he’d chopped it.

He blew out a puff of air to make the fringe flop away from his eye a bit, mainly to keep it off of his glasses. (He usually wore contacts, but he got lazy when he traveled and didn’t bother with them.) The hair flopped right back where it had been and with a grumble, Victor reached up to adjust how it was laying underneath his black ball cap. He hated the way the thing made his hair behave, but it was necessary if he wanted to go unnoticed. Short or long, his silver hair would be a dead giveaway if all of it was exposed.

“Now arriving at Rostelecom Station,” the chipper female voice said from the overhead speakers.

“That’s our stop, Makka,” Victor said, nudging his poodle gently. Makkachin hopped down to the floor and shook his fur out while his owner grabbed his rolling suitcase and duffle bag. He’d actually planned ahead for once and had most of his things shipped to the palace before he left.

Bags in hand, the duo exited the train onto the hustle and bustle of the platform. Victor extended his arms over his head and stretched, groaning as his spine popped and cracked and released the tension sitting for so long had built up. He then started to walk, Makkachin staying close to his side and keeping pace.

They slipped through the terminal and out of the station without incident. It was kind of nice to be home and not be mobbed by people excited to see their soon-to-be-king return home. It kept Victor from thinking just how much things were about to change for him for just a little while longer.

“Hey, you hungry?” he asked the poodle beside him. Makkachin let out a loud bark, his tail wagging hard and fast. Victor laughed and changed directions towards the main part of town. “Thought so. I’m hungry too. Let’s go see if that one café is still here. They had the best paninis.”

Victor kept their pace slow, not in any rush at all. His phone buzzed in his jeans pocket, but he ignored it. He didn’t want to listen to Yakov yelling about him being delinquent. He’d been gone for so long, he deserved to admire his city. Besides, a good king was supposed to know all about his subjects, right?

He rounded a corner and immediately got a whiff of the scents rolling off of different restaurants. The smell of roasted meats and cooked vegetables and Rostelecom’s signature pirozhkis filled his and Makkachin’s noses. Victor let out a groan and Makkachin started to drool. Seemed like the both had missed local food.

Sorry Yakov. His royal duties would have to wait just a bit longer.


	2. Chapter 2

_ Crap, crap, crap! _

Feet pounded the brick sidewalk as Yuri Katsuki sprinted down one of Rostelecom’s side streets, taking every shortcut he knew to get to Château de Glace. His sneakers squeaked as he pivoted and darted down an alleyway towards one of the busier streets.

His morning had started out so well! A phone call from his parents wishing him a happy birthday, Phichit had managed to cook him breakfast  _ without _ burning it to a crisp. His classes had gone well. He even managed to pass his one exam without a single panic attack.

And then his bag ripped. He’d had that bag for years, had brought it with him from home. He’d taught himself the basics of sewing so he could repair it on his own when it got small rips and tears and nicks and holes. But it had finally met its end, the entire bottom falling out and sending his belongings all over the ground. He’d have to ask around and see if anyone back at Celestino’s had a spare he could borrow for a while. It wasn’t like he could exactly afford a new one.

So now, he cradled his books and papers to his chest, squeezing them with one arm while his free hand checked his phone for the time. It was almost three, but not quite. He still had time. He could still make it.

He rounded the last corner, jumping in and out of groups of people with fervent apologies. The café was just ahead. He was so close! He just—

**_THWACK_ **

Yuri hissed as he fell back onto his rump, his things flying out of his arms and his phone skittering across the bricks. His glasses fell askew on his face and he was pretty sure his hands were scraped. Great. Just great.

He heard a dog bark to his left, and then a long, wet tongue sliding up his cheek.

“Makka, no! Stop that!”

There was a whine, but the licking stopped and Yuri looked up, adjusting his glasses. The man in front of him was tall enough that his head shielded the sun (thankfully). His nose was wrinkled up and his blue eyes wide with worry.

“You okay? That was quite a tumble there.”

Yuri blinked a few times. “Huh? Yeah, I’m—“ He cut himself off with a sharp gasp. His cheeks turned a dark shade of red and he pressed his scraped palms together, bowing his head down. “I am so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going!”

The man laughed and dropped to one knee, starting to pick up some of the papers that had scattered during the collision.

“No, it’s my fault. I should know better than to randomly stop in the middle of the pathway like that,” he said.

“And I should know better than to be blindly sprinting down this street,” Yuri counted. He shifted himself up and onto his knees, starting to grab his books and tuck them into his arms again. He felt like such an idiot. So much for having a good birthday today.

“You wouldn’t be the first, and definitely won’t be the last. So don’t worry about it.”

“If...if you insist.”

“I do.” The man stood, offering Yuri his hand. Yuri took it after biting his lip briefly. Better to accept the help than to look like a fool on the ground. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Yuri nodded as he was tugged to his feet. “Yeah. Might have a bruise in the morning, but I’m okay. What about you?”

“I’m good! I stumbled a bit, but I’m pretty hard to knock over. Besides, Makkachin here kept me from moving too much.” He pointed down to his side, and Yuri caught sight of the culprit of the earlier lick attack.

“You have a poodle!”

“Yeah! I’ve had him since I was a kid, and he came with me when I traveled abroad.”

Yuri barely paid attention as he moved to pick his phone up. He  _ had _ to show off his pictures of Vicchan! But he frowned and let out a groan at the sight of his screen. The crack spread across the entirety of the screen. It was just a small relief that the thing was still functional.

_ Damn it. First my bag, now this? I definitely can’t afford to get this fixed. Maybe I can get a screen protector so I at least don’t cut my finger… _

“What’s wrong?”

Yuri jumped and glanced back at the man he’d ran into, noticing his rectangular, wire-rimmed glasses for the first time. For a moment, he understood why Phichit complained about him not wearing contacts. Those bright blue eyes could only look better when they weren’t hidden by glass. Though, they definitely suited his face and matched the tuft of silver hair that poked out from under his ball cap.

“My screen just cracked,” he explained. “But it still works, so it’s no big deal.”

The man frowned. “Now I feel bad. Let me get that fixed for you.”

“No! You don’t have to do that!”

“But it  _ is _ half my fault. And cutting yourself on a broken screen hurts. I’ve done it before. Not pleasant.”

“No, it wouldn’t be.” Yuri’s eyes went back to his phone and he ran his finger over the screen gingerly. “I don’t think the glass is actually splintered or anything. It’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Anyway, I was gonna show you my dog. He’s a poodle too!”

“Really?”

The taller man bent down as Yuri opened his camera roll and pulled up the pictures of his own dog. “His name is Vicchan. He’s a family dog. We got him when I was eleven, but I had to leave him behind when I moved here.”

“You aren’t from Rostelecom?”

“Ah, no. I was born in Saga.”

“Wow. Pretty far from here. But, I would never have guessed. You don’t have an accent at all.”

“Erm...thanks. I think.”

“It’s a compliment, promise.”

A small smile appeared on Yuri’s lips and he turned his attention back to his phone to find a recent picture of Vicchan. He wouldn’t say it, but the other had a nice accent. It was very obviously native Rostelecom, a bit more refined and polished though. It was also light. He noticed the bags sitting beside him. Maybe he had been traveling for a while?

“Oh, here’s one! He’s smaller than Makkachin, but he has a lot of love.”

“Wow! He looks so happy! How old is he?”

“He’s eight, almost nine. How old is yours?”

“Makka is eleven. And he’s a very good boy. Usually.”

Yuri laughed. “I can tell. He’s definitely affectionate, that’s for sure.”

“Most definitely! Do you have more pictures?”

“Yeah, here. I think I have—“

“Yuri!!”

The color drained from his cheeks at the sound of his name being called. He forced his eyes up from his phone, swallowing hard as a brown-haired girl bounced over to him.

“Yuri, what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, Yuuko! I know I’m late,” he said. “I’ll come clock in right—“

“Huh?” Yuuko tilted her head to the side. “Didn’t you get Takeshi’s message? It’s your birthday, you can have the day off.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah! It’s not everyday you turn 20!” Yuuko grinned, lips stretched ear to ear. “But, you can come inside and get your present if you want! Or we can have it sent to Celestino’s later. Oh! Sorry, I’m being rude, who’s your friend?”

“Erm…”

“I’m Vitya,” the man said from beside Yuri, holding his hand out. His smile was warm and big and it lit up his entire face.

“I’m Yuuko! It’s nice to meet you!” She shook Vitya’s hand with her normal energy, clasping his fingers in both of her hands. The shake had his whole arm moving before she let him go, but he didn’t seem too phased.

“Likewise!”

“Anyway…” Yuuko turned back to Yuri, hands on her hips. “You want to come get your present now? Although, you have your hands full...what happened to your bag?”

“Long story. Do you mind just sending it to the house? If it’s not too much trouble…”

“Of course not! I’ll bring it by myself if I have to!”

“You’re a gem, Yuuko.”

“I try my best!” She turned as there was a shout and wave from one of the tables outside of Château de Glace. “Coming! Sorry, I gotta go. Nice to meet you again, Vitya! Happy birthday, Yuri!”

“Bye!”

“Thanks again, Yuuko! Tell Takeshi thanks for me, too!”

The men waved as she sprinted off, pulling a pad and pen out of the pocket of her half apron. Once she was gone, Yuri’s shoulders dropped and he let out a breath. One less thing off his chest to worry about today. Of course, that meant he’d have to pick up a shift later to make up for the missed hours; not to mention the extra hours he’d need to fix his now broken phone and to replace his bag and—

**_Poke poke poke._ **

He turned his head towards Vitya as the taller man poked his cheek again.

“What are you doing?”

“You didn’t say it was your birthday.”

“Well I just met you by literally running into you. I don’t exactly give out personal information to strangers…”

Vitya laughed, his eyes crinkling. He had a nice laugh, Yuri noticed. Easy and effortless. He extended his hand out, the other stuck in the pocket of his black pea coat. “I’m Vitya.”

Yuri  _ almost _ rolled his eyes because this was cheesy, but he saw the effort for what it was. At least he wasn’t stomping on a piece of ice and calling it an ‘ice breaker’. He reached out and clasped Vitya’s hand in his own. “I’m Yuri.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yuri.”

“Probably be more pleasurable if I didn’t try to bowl you over.”

“No way. I like it when people plow into me. Makes it interesting.”

The two men laughed together and the last of Yuri’s tensions about the collision melted away. He pulled his hand back and tucked it and his phone into the pocket of his blue hoodie.

“So...it’s your birthday?” Vitya asked.

“Yeah. I tend not to make a big deal out of it. It’s just a day.”

“An important day!”

“Depends on who you ask.”

“Is it important enough that I can buy you a late lunch?”

Heat crept up Yuri’s neck and into his cheeks and his eyes grew wide. “Y-You don’t have to do that! We just met, and it’s really not a big deal! I’m just turning 20, so it’s not like it’s a milestone either!”

“Then as an apology for knocking you over?”

“ _ I  _ ran into  _ you _ !”

Vitya waved his hand. “Technicalities,” he said. He pressed his hands together and stared down at Yuri, his eyes filling with dramatic tears. His bottom lip stuck out, and even quivered a little. “Pleeeeeaaaaaase Yuri?”

Even Makkachin sat down and whined, giving the same puppy dog eyes as his owner.

“Okay, okay! Fine!”

“Yay!” The smile that covered Vitya’s face was the brightest, and most unique, that Yuri had ever seen. It was wide and heart-shaped and his eyes sparkled as if they were embedded with diamonds. It made Yuri smile too, despite his prior protests, and his chest swelled with warmth. Vitya was a good looking man, but that smile sent him over the moon.

Besides, a man with that kind of smile couldn’t be bad. It was too honest and too vulnerable.

“What would you like?” Vitya asked. “I came this way for Château de Glace, they have a fantastic cucumber panini I loved! Or they used to at least. It’s been a while.”

“We still have it,” Yuri said. “One of the most popular items on the menu. The spiced chicken one is good, too. But if you want a personal recommendation, there’s a dish we make with pork and eggs that’s vastly underrated. There’s also a new soup we have that just came out a month ago.”

Vitya blinked at him a couple times, his expression full of shock and confusion and something else Yuri couldn’t put his finger on but it didn’t seem  _ bad _ . His brow wrinkled and his head tilted to the side.

“What are you—OH MY GOD I WENT INTO WAITER MODE I’M SO SORRY!” The flush that covered his face grew brighter as Vitya started laughing again, wrapping an arm around his waist and doubling over. “It’s not funny!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Vitya straightened up, dramatically wiping tears from his eyes. “It’s just true what they say about people slipping into customer service mode on accident. I’ve never seen it happen before.”

“At full risk of embarrassing myself more, one of my friends has heard me sleep talk in the customer service voice.”

Laughter busted out of Vitya again, and while Yuri was still blushing, he chuckled a bit himself. He normally would never admit that kind of thing to anyone so easily but...Vitya was easy to talk to. Yuri was drawn to him, sucked in by his voice and eyes.

“That is probably the single funniest thing I have ever heard,” Vitya said once he could breathe again. “I would have paid to have heard it for myself.”

Yuri shrugged a bit, watching as Vitya bent to sling a duffle bag over his shoulder and grab the handle of his icy blue suitcase. It matched his eyes actually, making them stand out more under the cap and against his dark grey sweater that hugged his frame and—

_ Stop it Yuri! Time and place! _

He cleared his throat so he could speak. “I don’t think it was anything that amusing, really. Just your standard waiter sayings.”

“Yeah, but doing it in your  _ sleep _ is what makes it funny,” Vitya pointed out. “But, I guess this means Glace is off the table for lunch. Though, it would be highly amusing to watch you order in kitchen speak.”

“Kitchen speak?”

“Yeah. You know ‘I need a swimming warbler with feathers, dressed for summer’,” Vitya said. “Or something like that.”

Yuri snorted. “We don’t talk like that ever,” he said. “I do write in shorthand though. That you would never understand.”

“A talent I have never mastered, it’s true.” Vitya feigned sorrow, his hand draping dramatically over his brow as he slightly bent backwards. Yuri snickered softly. His new acquaintance would fit right in with his friends, if they ever met.

“Anyway,” Yuri said as Vitya finished being a drama king. “We can do Glace if you want. I like our food. I just eat there a lot cause of work, but I do know the menu backwards and forward.”

“No no. Birthday meals should be  _ special _ ,” Vitya insisted. “I can come eat here anytime I want. What do you want?”

That made Yuri go quiet for a minute. He didn’t usually get asked where he wanted to go. If he wasn’t eating at home or at Glace, he sort of followed where his friends went. If he went at all. He didn’t have the support of his family like some of his housemates did, so most of his money went to his school fees or rent. Going out for fun wasn’t high on his list of priorities.

But...here was a guy he just met, asking his opinion and offering to treat him because he wanted to. It was an odd experience, but one that made Yuri’s stomach fill with butterflies and warmth.

“Well...there’s a new pirozhki place near here that’s supposed to be good—“

“I haven’t had pirozhki in so long!” Vitya exclaimed, that heart-shaped smile lighting up his face again. He reached out with his free hand and tugged Yuri’s out of his pocket, holding it tight as he started pulling him down the street. “Let’s go!”

“Vitya!”

Yuri stumbled after him, and the shock took a second to wear off enough for him to give his taller (and very strong) companion directions. Makkachin trotted after them, tongue hanging out of his mouth and ears bouncing with every step.

The pirozhki place wasn’t much, just a street vendor with some tables set up nearby, but Yuri had heard good things about it and the food smelled divine. The mixture of different meats and vegetables and deep fried dough and even some sweets covered the nearby area. The two humans and one dog all nearly drooled in line as they got in line.

Well. The two humans  _ nearly _ drooled. The poodle didn’t even bother to hold back the strings and drops of saliva that flicked off his tongue.

They placed their orders, one savory and one sweet pirozhki each (plus one for Makkachin), and went to grab one of the tables before they were all taken. Yuri’s books were placed on the table and Vitya’s bags sat by his seat. Makkachin was ordered to lay under the table as Vitya went back to the stand to get their food.

“Vkusno!” Vitya praised after the first bite. Yuri had to nod in agreement. The hype about this place was right.

“So,” he said after a few minutes. “I take it you’ve been traveling? Judging by the bags, I mean.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been living abroad for a while, studying. This is my first day back home in five years.”

“Wow, it must feel good. I haven’t been home in six years.”

“How come?”

“Same as you. My parents sent me here for school,” Yuri explained. “Rostelecom is well known for its education systems.”

Vitya nodded. “That is true. We’re one of the top countries in the world in that area.”

“So why did you leave?”

“Change of scenery, mainly. I studied at a school in Salchow.”

“No way!”

“What?”

“I always wanted to go to Salchow!”

Vitya laughed at that and indulged Yuri’s questions about the distant country, which only led to Yuri answering Vitya’s questions about Saga in turn.

“You mean the trees bloom in winter?”

“Just the cherry blossoms,” Yuri said. “They bloom right on the cusp of winter and spring, so the flowers will sometimes be covered with ice and snow. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

“I wish we had trees like that. Winter is my favorite season, but nature always looks so grey and dull around here. I wish we had some color.”

“Winter does have color! All kinds of different shades of blue and white. The pops of red on people’s skin when it gets cold. The pinks and oranges when the sun hits the snow in the morning. Not to mention the way the light makes everything sparkle.”

Vitya’s eyes lit up as Yuri spoke, watching him like he was painting that scene before his eyes. In a way, maybe he was. Yuri did always have a way of seeing things as more than they were.

When he wasn’t involved, of course.

“I never thought of it that way,” Vitya said. “But you’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m going to have to get up extra early to see the sun rise when we get the first snowfall this year.”

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “You have fun with that. I’ll sleep through it.”

“What, not a morning person?”

“The only thing good about morning is coffee.”

“Okay, point for Yuri,” Vitya teased.

They sat and talked for a while even after the pirozhkis were gone. They found they had a good bit in common. They both loved to skate, they both loved their dogs more than life itself, they both were free spirits, and they had equally corny senses of humor.

“So then, Mari decided it’d be funny to put me and my sleeping bag in our inflatable raft and let me float out onto the  _ lake _ while I was still  _ sleeping _ ,” Yuri was saying, somehow having gotten on the topic of pranks he and his sister used to pull on each other when they were kids. Clearly, Vitya was enjoying the stories because he was laughing hysterically.

“Oh...oh my God, that’s so mean!”

“Tell me about it! I woke up several yards from shore and panicked and fell into the water! And it was  _ cold _ !”

Vitya was howling at this point, wheezing with his arms around himself. “Please tell me you got her back!”

“Oh, I did.” A wicked gleam entered Yuri’s eyes and he leaned forward. “I snuck a snake into her sleeping bag. Non-venomous of course. Just a tiny little green thing. She screamed so loud it could’ve woken a bear from hibernation.”

Vitya’s head hit the table and he pounded the surface with his fist. His shoulders were shaking. “You’re even worse!”

“I got grounded but it was  _ so _ worth it.”

It took a few moments for Vitya to get his senses back and sit up right. Yuri was rather proud he could make his new friend laugh so much. And Vitya’s laugh was contagious. He wasn’t sure the last time he’d smiled this much.

“Okay, okay, my turn.” Vitya sat up and cleared his throat. “Two years ago, a group of us went to—“ A frown crossed the man’s features and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He let out a sigh and mouthed ‘sorry’ at Yuri before answering the phone.

“Hello?”

Immediately, Vitya held his phone away from his ear at arm’s length, cringing. Even Yuri winced, able to hear the yelling from across the table. He couldn’t understand it, but he knew the tone well enough.

“Are you done?” Vitya asked once he could bring the phone back to his ear safely. “I’m out—stop yelling! Okay, okay. Fine, I’m coming. Yeesh.”

He hung up his phone and groaned. Long fingers went up to rub at his temples.

“You gotta go?” Yuri asked, trying and failing to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Unfortunately. My uncle’s a bit grumpy I didn’t come straight home earlier.”

“A bit?”

“A  _ lot _ .”

“Then go, it’s okay,” Yuri assured. “I should probably be heading home anyway. But...it was nice to hang out with you.”

The other man’s lips turned up and he nodded. “Likewise,” he said. “Oh, here!” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a pen before scrawling on a napkin. He passed it over to Yuri.

“What’s this?”

“My number.”

Yuri’s eyes went wide behind his glasses and his cheeks turned pink. “O-Oh.”

“Text me later tonight!” Vitya stood and gathered his bags, whistling once for Makkachin to get up. “It was nice to meet you Yuri!,” he added before heading off.

“You too! And thank you for lunch!”

Vitya waved and disappeared into the crowds further down the street. Yuri watched him go, and glanced down at the napkin clutched in his fingers.

_ What does this even mean?! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos on the first chapter! They mean a lot, and I hope you all are enjoying this little AU of mine!


	3. Chapter 3

It was nearly dark by the time Victor arrived at the palace. The horizon was draped in gold and pink and orange, while the sky higher up was a mix of dark blue and purple and black, dotted with pinpricks of white. He would love to stay out and admire it, but the growing chill in the air and the threat of Yakov’s wrath made him move inside.

He slipped in through the servants’ entrance, having wanted to avoid the main gates and the hubbabaloo that would come with being noticed. He held the door open for Makkachin and followed his poodle into the kitchens. It was dark, which meant he either missed dinner or it was early still. He couldn’t remember the schedule around here. He pressed a finger to his lips to let his dog know to be quiet. Makkachin gently nudged his leg before trotting forward, nose to the ground.

Victor snickered and let the sniffing dog lead him. The only sound that could be heard was the rolling of his suitcase and Makkachin’s claws. They reached the door and he peeked out into the hall. Seeing no one, he pushed the door open and stepped out and—

“ _ VICTOR!!!” _

A blur of red hair launched into him and he was lifted off the ground a few inches.

“Hey Mila! You’ve gotten stronger, I see.”

The servant girl grinned and set her prince on his feet again. “Of course! I can lift Yura up over my head now! I’ll have to show you, it’s funny to watch him squirm.”

“Bet he absolutely  _ loves _ that.”

Mila laughed and waved him off. “ _ Anyway _ , welcome home! How was Salchow? Did you make new friends? Did you miss us? Is it good to be back? How did Makka do? Is—“

“ _ Shhh!” _

Victor slapped his hand over Mila’s mouth.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” he assured. “But not right now, and don’t be so loud. You’ll summon the dragon.”

“Yakov?” Mila mumbled behind his hand.

He nodded once and pulled his hand away. “I’ve already gotten half an ear full.”

“Be glad you haven’t gotten more. He’s been pissed all day since he found out you ditched the detail this morning.”

“I  _ told _ him not to send it.”

“But you know how he is.”

“Yeah.” Viktor huffed, blowing a few strands of his silver hair out of his face. “Mind helping me sneak back to my room so I have a chance of less of a lecture?”

“Seriously? You’re going to try to pretend you’ve been here for hours?”

“Well—“

“Victor, you know that won’t work.”

“I can try!”

Mila rolled her eyes, but took his hand and tugged him to a door hidden in the wall. “Fine, but I get free reign to say I told you so when you get caught.”

“You’d do it anyway!”

“Duh.”

The pair and one dog slipped into the hidden passage, and Mila took the lead. The stone passage and dim lighting was such a contrast to the rest of the palace. The ground and stairs were worn down and smooth from centuries of servants passing over them to avoid being seen by guests of the royal family. Holders for torches still lined the walls, but small LED lights along the lower part of the bricks had long replaced the flickering of flames. Their footsteps and Makkachin’s claws echoed around them without carpet to silence them, and the lack of tapestries or portraits or other works of art had the wide passage feeling empty and claustrophobic. But Victor didn’t mind it at all. He’d used to sneak around these halls when he was little. He used them to scare his parents, to get away from one of Lilia’s lessons, to goof off with Mila and Yura and Georgi whenever he could. Even with years away, these halls were more familiar to him than some of the palace proper.

“So what took you so long to get back anyway?” Mila asked. “Ignoring Yakov or not, it doesn’t take  _ that _ long to get from the airport into the city.”

“I went and got some food and then walked the long way back. I’ve been away for a long time.”

“I know, but it’s been over almost two hours since Yakov finally got a hold of you. Which, I know is about the walk here from most places in the city. Even getting food, you should’ve been here an hour  _ before _ you finally answered your phone.”

“So?”

“ _ So _ what were you doing?”

“I told you, I was getting food.”

“Victor…”

“What?”

“Were you breaking some poor soul’s heart again?”

Viktor stopped on the stone steps and gasped, his hand flying up to his heart. “Mila, how  _ dare _ you accuse me of such a horrid thing! You wound me!”

The petite redhead snorted quietly. “Victor, I follow you on Instagram. Don’t think I don’t know about the string of broken hearts you left in Salchow.”

“It’s not  _ my _ fault I didn’t click with anyone.”

“And I suppose it isn’t your fault that you insist on always looking drop dead gorgeous so people swoon over you?”

“What kind of prince would I be if I didn’t have standards?”

Mila rolled her eyes and kept heading up the stairs, making Victor move again even though he was snickering.

“The point here, Vic, is that whoever kept you distracted all afternoon probably has their hopes up that their prince noticed them,” she said. “You’re fun to tease, and I know you like your flings, but flirting with people here is going to go differently. It’s going to be harder to find out the prince of your own country dumped you.”

“Okay, first off, I’m not  _ dumping _ anyone,” Victor grumbled. “I only met him today. Just because I met a cute guy and gave him my number—

“Oh my God, Victor.”

“—doesn’t mean it’s going to become anything,” he continued. “Besides, he didn’t even know who I was, so for now I’m safe.”

“How could someone  _ not  _ know who you are?”

Victor deadpanned, simply pointing to his hat and glasses.

“That’s not a clever disguise, Vic.”

“It is when I’ve been gone for five years and matured and no one here knows what I look like anymore,” he said. “ _ And _ my personal Instagram is private. The only people who know about it are people  _ I  _ tell. It’s not like I can goof off on my official page. That’s for business only. I’m not the one who posts there most of the time anyway.”

Mila sighed and paused on the top of the stairs. “Victor, he’s going to find out. As devastating as it’ll be for him when you drop him—

“We’re not together!”

“You wouldn’t have given him your number if it hadn’t crossed your mind!”

Victor glared at her and folded his arms over his chest, but said nothing. Mila had known him since they were kids. How could he protest things she knew to be truth?

“Look, his feelings aren’t even my concern,” she said, her eyes softening. “He’d get over it eventually. It’s you I’m worried about. You know as well as I do why Yakov wants you to marry another royal.”

“I’m not entering into an arranged marriage.”

“No one’s forcing that on you. But what are you going to do when this guy finds out who you really are?”

“He may not.”

It was Mila’s turn to deadpan him. “Your return is going to be televised tomorrow. If he doesn’t find out then, it won’t be long until he does.”

“So what?”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Vic. You’re like a big brother to me. What are you going to do if he comes after you just for your position? What if he uses that against you?”

“He’s not that shallow—“

“You don’t know that!”

That effectively shut Victor up and he looked away. Mila sighed and placed her hand on his arm.

“You just met him. You don’t know that he isn’t. You have good instincts, but you aren’t infallible. And you aren’t indestructible. Just be careful, okay?”

“Yeah. I will.”

Mila stepped closer, sliding her arms around Victor’s waist and under his coat. He blinked before he returned it, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

“I missed you, Baba,” he whispered.

“I missed you too. A lot. It hasn’t been the same around here without you.”

She pulled out of his arms and pushed on the door in front of them. Cautiously, she leaned through the opening and looked in all directions.

“Looks like the coast is clear,” she said and stepped out of the way. “But hurry if you don’t want Yakov knowing you were gone longer than you actually were.”

“You’re the best, Mila,” Victor said. He stepped into the hall, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights and white and gold walls and scarlet carpet. He turned back to face her and smiled. “And I promise, I’ll be careful.”

“Good.” The panel in the wall closed and Mila was gone, leaving Victor alone again with Makkachin.

“Come on, boy.” The pair moved down the hall and to the second door they reached on the left. Victor reached out to grip the knob, but paused.

As excited as he was to be home, it was just now hitting him that he was here for the first time in five years. He hadn’t been in his own  _ room _ in five years. He didn’t know if it had changed. Would it have changed? Did he even remember it right?

And if he didn’t know his own suite, how would he know his own kingdom? He should’ve done a better job keeping up with things while he was away. Between school and his friends and new experiences and his “flings”, he just hadn’t cared. He’d forced himself to be anything except the prince he was. His friends hadn’t cared that he was a prince. His dates...well, they cared if he flaunted it, and he did. A bit. It did make it easier to flirt sometimes. A good “Prince Charming” line never got old, after all.

He shook his head quickly. Someone would fill him in on what he missed. It would be fine.

With a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped in, flicking the light on. It was almost a relief to see that his sitting room hadn’t changed much at all. There was a bigger TV and a bigger bed for Makkachin (which the poodle immediately curled up in), but everything else was the same. Same chairs, same lamps, same tables. Victor chuckled as Makkachin rolled around in his new bed and headed towards his bedroom.

The first thing he noticed when he opened the door was the smell. Thank goodness thought to clean his room before he got home. He couldn’t imagine the levels of dust and mustiness that would’ve built up over the years. The second was the boxes; his things had arrived before him. He’d have a lot of unpacking to do over the next few days. The third was that everything else was left untouched. Even his old posters that would make him cringe now were left up.

Without a second thought, Victor dropped his bags at the door and tossed his hat and coat onto his desk before flopping face first onto his bed. He’d forgotten how soft it was compared to his bed in Salchow. He buried his face into his pillow and breathed in deeply, closing his eyes.

Home.

He was really  _ home _ .

He didn’t bother to kick his shoes off as he curled up in the middle of his bed. He could just stay right here. He could fall asleep and wake up in his own bed and be greeted by the sun rising over the gardens outside his window. Makkachin would be curled up with him. It’d almost be like he never left, except he’d ask for coffee in the morning instead of tea or juice. He’d sip it while looking out over the woods nearby that were dripping in fall colors. He’d take Makkachin out for a morning walk and get lost in the hedge maze for a while. When they came back, it’d be nearly lunch time and he’d eat in the kitchens with Mila and Yura and Georgi and laugh with them instead of having to eat alone in the too big dining room.

_ “ _ **_VICTOR!_ ** _ ” _

Uh oh.

Victor’s eyes snapped open and his spine seized up. So much for relaxing for a while.

He slid off his bed and tried not to look like he was trudging as he went back to his sitting room. “Oh, hi Yakov, I didn’t hear you come in,” he said cheerfully, plastering on a smile even though he was internally cringing at the look of sheer anger on the older man’s face. His brow was even beaded with a bit of nervous sweat because of how red his regent’s face was.

“What the hell were you thinking skipping the security detail?” Yakov barked, and Victor flinched, his smile fading away. “And what is this business about spending the whole day out? Do you know how risky it is for you to be out on your own this close to your coronation? Way to open yourself up to be a walking target! There is nothing that could have possibly been that important to risk your safety!”

Victor tried not to let his mind go blank as Yakov yelled, he really did, but he had heard the rant in his head already. Yakov’s anger was terrifying, but it was predictable at least. He stood quiet and let the verbal barrage go on, making sure he looked like he was at least listening.

“—And not even a  _ call _ to let us know—Victor, are you listening to me?”

“Yes. Sorry for worrying you, Uncle.”

Yakov snorted and folded his arms. “No you aren’t.”

Victor offered a sheepish grin. “Little bit sorry?”

Yakov stared at him for a minute before he sighed. He shook his head back and forth, the red having faded from his face. “What am I going to do with you, Vitya? I swear, you’re just like your father was. He never listened to me either.”

“And that’s why you were his advisor and made my godfather. Only you can keep us Nikiforovs in line.”

“Don’t make me laugh. The only line you know is your hairline.”

Victor laughed and he saw how it made Yakov soften. The older man reached up and squeezed the prince’s shoulder affectionately.

“Welcome back, Vitya.”

“It’s good to be home, actually.”

“I’m glad.” Yakov released his shoulder and stepped toward the door. “Get cleaned up. Dinner will be in two hours, and then you need to rest. Your homecoming ceremony is in the morning. I’ll try to keep Lilia off your back until after that.”

“Key word being try?”

Yakov hummed and then stepped out, shuttling the main door behind him. From the bed in the corner, Makkachin let out a grumbling whine and turned in his bed, unamused at being disturbed. The movement made the Winter Prince chuckle softly. He didn’t linger and decided to let his dog nap. They’d had a long day of travel, after all, and he should probably heed Yakov’s advice and at least take a shower.

He passed through his bedroom and to his large bathroom (thank God he didn’t have to use a dorm bathroom anymore, that was distressing) and turned on the shower. As he stepped back into his room to strip, he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his dark jeans and blinked at the notifications. The content made him smile, and his heart stuttered and skipped and fluttered in his chest. He clutched the device to his chest and did everything in his physical power not to squeal like a little girl. His eyes were bright as he left his phone on his bed so he could shower, a spring in his step that had nothing to do with being home.

_ Unknown Number _

_ >> Hey! This is Yuri! _

_ >> Thanks for lunch. Again. _

_ >> I had a great time. _


	4. Chapter 4

“Rise and shine!”

Curtains were thrown aside and light flooded the room. The blanket burrito on one of the twin beds in the room squirmed and a noise close to a groan emanated from it.

“Nope! You’ve slept long enough!”

Another groan sounded and the burrito shifted, a puff of messy black hair sticking out from the top. A tanned hand reached down, tugging the blanket down to completely reveal Yuri’s face. He blinked his bleary eyes a few times just so he could glare at a blurry Phichit before pulling the blanket up over his head.

“Yuri…”

“No.”

“It’s Thursday.”

“Don’t have class.”

“It’s almost 11.”

“Don’t care.”

“You’re going to miss Prince Victor’s grand return.”

“I can watch it later.”

“Leo made churros for breakfast.”

That made Yuri peek his head out over the top of the blanket, just enough so his squinting eyes were visible. He studied Phichit’s face for a minute (was he smirking? He thought he was smirking).

“Fine,” he conceded and sat up, rubbing his eyes before he put his glasses on. Phichit’s face came into focus, with the rest of the room, and yes, he was definitely smirking. “But only because you’ll eat my share of the churros.”

“I would not!” Yuri fixed Phichit with a deadpan look as he swung his legs off the bed. “I’d eat  _ half _ your share and then hide the rest.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you still claim me as your best friend.”

“Because no one else will.”

“Hey!”

Yuri snickered and ignored his best friend and roommate’s pout as he grabbed his sweatshirt from the floor by the foot of his bed where he’d left it the night before. He slipped it on over his loose t-shirt before grabbing his phone from the charger. His eyes lit up at the text on the cracked screen and he unlocked the device to respond.

“Is that that guy you were talking about yesterday again?” Phichit asked. He leaned over, trying to see, but Yuri jerked his phone away. “It is, isn’t it!”

“So what if it is?”

“You were up half the night talking to him!”

“I was not!”

“Was too!”

“Was  _ not! _ ”

“Was  _ too!” _

Phichit ducked around Yuri, hands grabbing for the phone in his hand. Yuri had to hold the device up over his head, but that didn’t stop his best friend. Phichit attempted to jump for it, and then climb up Yuri’s body.

“Phichit, back off!”

“Let me see what he said!”

“No! It’s none of your business!”

“I’m your best friend! Your business with your crush  _ is _ my business!”

“I do  _ not _ have a crush on him!”

“Then why were you up talking to him until 4 this morning?”

“I went to bed at 3!”

“HA! I KNEW IT!”

“Phichit Chulanont, I  _ swear _ to  _ God _ if you don’t back off—OW! Hey! Get off me! Don’t—STOP BITING ME!”

“Give me the phone, Katsuki!”

“ _ No _ !”

“Um, guys?” The squabbling pair stopped where they were, Phichit on Yuri’s back with one arm around his neck, the other reaching for where Yuri had his phone clutched to his chest. Yuri was doubled over, trying to use his body to cover up his phone and his precious conversation with Vitya, his free hand swung back in an attempt to grab Phichit. Phichit even had the top of Yuri’s ear trapped between his teeth. Both of their pairs of eyes were fixed on the youngest resident of their floor lingering in the doorway.

“Hey Guang-Hong,” they both said, not moving.

The 17 year old stared at the two older residents. “If you two can stop yelling for two minutes, the presentation is about to start,” he said. “Also, Leo’s been recording the whole thing, so unless you guys want your yelling all over the internet, better come on.”

“Okay, we’re coming—“

“Guang-Hong!” Leo’s voice came from somewhere out in the hall. “You weren’t supposed to use that as blackmail!”

“Sorry!”

“Do not post it!” Yuri ordered. He finally managed to flip Phichit off his back and onto his bed, the 19 year old letting out a soft “oof” as he hit the mattress. The last thing Yuri wanted was his...whatever this was, this thing...with Vitya online. Even just Phichit’s relentless teasing.

He made sure his phone was tucked safely in the pocket of his hoodie as he left the room and met Guang-Hong and Leo in the hall. Leo was pouting, but had his phone down by his side and was not relentlessly typing away, so Yuri hoped that meant the recording wasn’t up on Instagram already.

“Phichit said there were churros?” Yuri asked.

Leo’s eyes brightened and he nodded. “Yup! de la Iglesia speciality!” he said. “They’re on the counter. Still warm too.”

“You’re the best.”

“Yuri, I thought I was the best!” Phichit protested.

“Biting my ear lost you that title, Peach.”

Leo and Guang-Hong both busted with laughter, and Yuri could just imagine the look of playful betrayal on Phichit’s face. He slipped into their floor’s small kitchen and grabbed a plate. He loaded it up with churros and some of Leo’s homemade spicy chocolate sauce, which was probably the best chocolate sauce Yuri had ever had. It was warm and had a consistency just between being too thick and too thin. The heat from the chili powder and spice from the cinnamon were balanced perfectly against the chocolate. Either Leo was blessed in the kitchen, or he had made a deal with a demon, because no human should be able to make this delicacy.

Swiping a churro through the most-likely-sin-incarnate chocolate sauce, Yuri made his way back out into the common area. The other three were all settled on the couch already, with Guang-Hong fiddling with the remote for the TV as he tried to find a station with the best coverage of the ceremony. It wouldn’t be too difficult since it would be on every native Rostelecom station, but there would be so many angles and different audio set ups and they were all pretty stingy about getting the best view of these kinds of events. Yuri sat himself on the ground in front of Phichit, crossing his legs and settling his plate in his lap.

“Where’s Kenjirou?” he asked, noticing that his bubbly blonde shadow was missing. 

“He bolted out earlier,” Leo said. “He said something about meeting with some friends for a public viewing, I think. I don’t know. He was speaking so fast I could hardly understand him. I think he had a banner with him though.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Yuri yelped as Phichit kicked him in the back. “Ow! What the hell, Phichit?”

“We all know you’d be at the palace with a banner of your own, if you weren’t so embarrassed,” Phichit said. “Don’t pretend you aren’t a Winter Prince fanboy.”

“Hey, looking up to him and admiring him does not mean I’m a fanboy.”

“No, but having official photos does.”

“Loads of people have those.”

“Framed ones?”

“ _ Yes _ .”

“And do they swoon over those old pictures, worshipping his hair?”

“His hair is nice okay??”

At this point, Yuri’s face was bright red and Leo and Guang-Hong were snickering while Phichit just smirked down at him.

“Shut up,” he muttered, and Leo and Guang-Hong’s snickers turned into full blown laughs. He tugged the hood of his sweatshirt up to hide, stuffing a churro in his mouth.

Okay, so maybe he had a  _ bit _ of a celebrity crush on Prince Victor Nikiforov. It wasn’t  _ that  _ big of a deal though. Yuri knew he wasn’t the only one. The Winter Prince was known world wide for his looks, even if the number of photos of him the last few years had dwindled. It made sense though. Yuri knew, just like everyone else, that the prince had been in school. It wasn’t like the royal publicist was going to follow him abroad to document his daily life.

Today would be the first official appearance of Rostelecom’s beloved prince in five years.

Yuri would be lying if he said he wasn’t just a little excited about it.

Looks aside, Victor was an inspiration. He’d had a small role in governing the country, but was unable to do too much since he was young, and then abroad. Even still, it was speculated that Victor would be one of the strongest, and kindest, kings Rostelecom had ever had. He had a strong head on his shoulders and had a natural talent for diplomacy. His confidence was enviable, but he never came across as arrogant. If anything, he seemed ridiculously humble.

He was everything Yuri wanted to be.

Not that Yuri cared about the royalty thing or the money or the prestige. Sure, maybe it was nice. But he liked the way Victor was, how he came across. To speak as well as he did at sixteen, to have the ability to smile at everyone and be welcoming without worrying about offending someone or stumbling over the words in his mouth or being afraid of not being noticed.

Yuri knew he was the opposite of the prince. Victor was beautiful, Yuri was plain. Victor was confident, Yuri was anxious. Victor was strong, Yuri was kind of weak. Victor was well known and friendly and open. Yuri came from a small family with a hot spring resort and was shy and had few friends. They might as well be two different species.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Phichit said. Yuri glanced up at the TV, only to nod in agreement.

“Yeah, that’s close to the balcony. Stay with that one.”

“Sure thing.” Guang-Hong leaned forward to put the remote down on the coffee table. “I think this is a bigger network, anyway.”

“How much longer until it starts?” Leo asked.

“It’s supposed to be at 11:15,” Phichit said.

Yuri tugged his phone out and clicked it on to check the time. “Five minutes then.” He blinked as his phone buzzed with a new message, and he opened it.   
  


_ Yuri: _

_ 10:52 AM _

_ >> Hey! I just saw your text _

_ >> My roommate just woke me up _

_ Vitya: _

_ 11:10 AM _

_ >> Aww morning!!! _

_ >> Forgot you said you’re a night owl~ _

_ Yuri: _

_ 11:11 AM _

_ >> I thought you said you had a family thing at 11? _

_ Vitya: _

_ 11:11 AM _

_ >> I do but I’m booored _

_ >> Talking to you is more fun than this thing _

Yuri’s cheeks dusted with pink and he was very grateful he had his hood up.

_ Yuri: _

_ 11:12 AM _

_ >> Don’t let your uncle hear you say that. _

_ Vitya: _

_ 11:13 AM _

_ >> I don’t care if he did :P _

_ >> Oh G2G!! _

Yuri rolled his eyes and tucked his phone away, but he was smiling to himself. And very glad that Phichit hadn’t been paying attention (or if he was, was being nice and not teasing him immediately).

Because if he had a celebrity crush on Victor, he might have a very real one on Vitya. Vitya was nice and he was funny and he was definitely a dork, but that was cool because Yuri was a bit of a dork himself. He was handsome and well groomed, despite traveling so much. And he liked dogs. No one who liked dogs could be that bad.

Yuri’s heart raced every time a new text had come in overnight. He liked talking to Vitya a lot. And Vitya liked him, at least in a friend manner. It meant a lot that someone he just met was taken to him in that way.

Victor was out of Yuri’s reach, and he knew it. His crush was superficial (even if Phichit insisted it wasn’t). But Vitya was real and available and, if his anxiety behaved, Yuri wanted to get closer to him.

Trumpets blared on the TV, and all four housemates sat up straighter as Regent Feltsman stepped out.

“Why does he always look so grumpy?” Leo asked.

“Maybe he’s constipated,” Phichit said, yelling as Guang-Hong elbowed him. “Ow!”

“Be nice!”

“I just said—“

“Shh!” Yuri shushed, eyes fixed on the screen. He picked up his last churro and swiped it through the last of his chocolate sauce before gnawing on the end. This was a big deal and he didn’t want to miss a second.

“Citizens of Rostelecom!” The regent’s gruff voice rang out, helped along by the microphones at the front of the balcony. “It is with great pride and pleasure that I announce to you today the return of our beloved prince!”

The audience near the palace roared with excitement, and Regent Feltsman waited for the sound to die down.

“Please, help us to welcome home, Prince Victor!”

The next round of applause was deafening as the prince himself stepped out. He wore a tailored gun metal grey suit that made his silver hair stand out. The ice blue tie and matching sash brought out his eyes. The gold circlet on his head helped to bring out the sharpness of his jawline.

“He actually cut his hair,” Phichit said. “Can’t say i was expecting that. Try not to mourn too hard Yuri.” He poked the man in the floor in the back of the head.

“Uh...Phichit, I don’t think he’s paying attention,” Guang-Hong said, a bit of worry in his voice.

And Yuri wasn’t. His eyes were wide, but not with awe. He’d gone pale, his hands were shaking, and the churro hung from his mouth.

_ This isn’t happening,  _ he thought.  _ This isn’t real. This can’t be real. _

Victor lifted a black-gloved hand on the screen in a wave and started to speak, but Yuri didn’t hear the words. He knew those eyes, he recognized the excited shine in them. He knew that fringe, even if just barely. He knew that smile, and how it could be bigger and how Victor’s upper lip could curve into a heart if he smiled just a bit more. He knew that voice.

“Uh….Yuri?” It was Leo’s voice. “Man, you okay?”

How? How had he noticed? How had he not put two and two together? How could he have been so  _ stupid _ ?

“Yuri?”

_ Vitya… _

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. He had to be dreaming. This had to be a joke. This wasn’t possible.

But, somehow, it was. Yuri’s heart was pounding and he couldn’t breathe. His chest grew tight and the room spun. The only thing stable was Victor on the screen, transformed from the common Vitya into this prince Yuri had looked up to and admired from afar for years.

Victor was real.

Victor had  _ talked to him _ .

Victor had his  _ phone number _ .

“Yuri….hey, Yuri, breathe. Deep breaths okay?”

He couldn’t do that. The words sounded like they were through a tunnel.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled, feeling himself tilting sideways before his world went black.


	5. Chapter 5

“That was an excellent speech. Well done, Vitya,” Yakov said. They’d just made their way back into the nearest sitting room from outside. The applause and cheers were still ringing in Victor’s ears. He’d almost forgotten how excited people would get to see him. “But was it really necessary to go off script like that? If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, improvising can get you into big trouble.”

“Ah, but improvising provides a personal touch. And a personal touch allows the audience to feel more connected to you. It keeps them engaged and tuned in to what you’re actually saying,” Victor countered. “And it’s a strategy I’ve found works exceptionally well.”

“Ew, where’d you get that sentimental garbage?”

Both regent and prince looked over to spy Yuri Plisetsky lounging on one of the loveseats. The blonde teenager hadn’t even looked up from the handheld game in his hands when he spoke, but he had a look of distaste in his face. Well, more distaste than usual.

“Public speaking 101,” Victor said. He walked over and ruffled Yuri’s head through his hood. “You should take it someday.”

“Get your hand off of me, royal freak!”

Victor laughed and strode away, taking a seat in an armchair. He draped his legs over one arm and rested his elbow on the other, dropping his cheek against his fist. “Missed you too.”

“Whatever.”

“Yuratchka, have respect,” Yakov scolded. “You’re old enough now to officially be Victor’s squire. Behave like it.”

“Tch.”

“Speaking of squires,” Victor said, tapping a finger to his chin. “I thought you’d be in school right now, Yura.”

“School was canceled.”

“How come?”

“You came home, stupid,” Yuri snapped. Emerald eyes peeled up from the handheld and squinted in Victor’s direction. “Which means it’s a fucking national holiday.”

“Yuri Plisetsky!” Prince, squire, and regent all three tensed up as the sharp voice cut through the room. The clack of heels on the stone floor preceded Lilia’s entrance into the room, her arms folded as tightly as the bun on her head. “We do not use such unkind language!”

“Yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”

“And you!” Her sharp eyes fixed on Victor and a chill ran down his spine. “You are nearly 21 years old and about to be king! Sit up like an adult!”

Victor scrambled so both of his feet were planted on the floor and his back was straight against the chair.

“Much better. Excellent speech by the way. I’m glad you changed it so it wasn’t so dry. You’ve always been a stronger leader when you let your charisma shine.”

“Thank you, Lilia,” Victor said. He got this smug grin as Yakov folded his arms, the older man’s brow furrowing. He had never liked when his advice was undermined. “I took notes in my public speaking classes”

“I hope you paid as much attention in your political science classes. You have a court meeting this afternoon.”

“Lilia! We agreed today would be a light day for him!” Yakov protested.

“Just because we agreed, old man, does not mean the nobility did. Victor has been away too long, and he needs to be involved in the discussions with court and parliament if he is to take the throne after the new year as planned.”

“But—“

“Yakov, it’s fine.” Victor leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Is there an agenda in place? Or is this a formality, given the circumstances?”

“I believe a formality. The meeting was scheduled just this morning, and I have not been informed that any members of parliament will be present with pressing issues,” Lilia explained. “But that is not an excuse to treat this like a paltry meeting with friends. It is still professional.”

“Of course.”

“Good. Miss Babicheva and Mr. Popovich are preparing the third floor conference room as we speak. You’ll be expected down there in exactly two hours.”

“Yes Lilia.”

“And sit properly until then. I will not have you embarrass yourself with a wrinkled suit.”

“Yes Lilia.”

Victor’s old tutor nodded and turned to face Yuri on the sofa. The teen stiffened and sat upright. “As for you, Mr. Plisetsky, we will hold your etiquette lessons as usual this afternoon. Just because school is out for the day does not mean we will slack on your lessons.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And Yakov.”

The regent squared his shoulders, green and blue eyes fixed on him, searching for any sign of fear. “Yes?”

“Next time let Victor write his own speech. He clearly has a better grasp of language and presentation than you ever have.”

“L-Lilia!”

The woman didn’t respond, already striding off. Yakov was left red-faced, and all three members of the room were staring after her for several minutes.

“I see she hasn’t changed a bit,” Victor mumbled.

“I think she’s actually gotten worse,” Yuri said.

“That’s a bit terrifying.”

“No kidding. Just be glad she didn’t slap your shins with a ruler for sitting like you were.”

“Yikes.”

*******

Exactly one hour, fifty seven minutes, and a light lunch later, Victor was making his way down the third floor hall. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he was painfully aware of the slight squeak his dress shoes made each time they bent when he took a step. He had his hands buried in the pockets of his suit jacket, one in a fist and the other around his phone, to keep himself from fidgeting. His breaths felt a little too short, a little too what. He felt hot, despite the temperature of the palace being immaculate.

He may have been panicking just a little.

_This should be Yakov’s job, not mine._ _I’m not ready for this._

He had known coming home meant things changing.

It didn’t mean he was  _ ready _ for all that. He’d thought he’d have more time before he was thrown into the role of king and everything that came with it. He’d thought Yakov would still be leading everything until his coronation, and that even after that, Yakov would have the reigns until Victor got used to being a ruler.

But facing the court now? Alone? No. He wasn’t ready at all.

He wished he could just  _ talk _ to someone.

Not someone royal though. Not someone who was surrounded by this kind of thing all the time.

Yakov would just lecture him on what to say and what to do again.

Lilia would pick apart his manners.

Yura...just wouldn’t care, actually.

Mila and Georgi wouldn’t be much help; they saw these meetings from the outskirts all the time and didn’t see them as a big deal.

Chris, even if he was well meaning and had good intentions, would just tell him to smile and be confident. That he had everyone in the world around his little finger already, so how bad could it be? His best friend probably understood him more than anyone, being an heir of his own nation.

But he didn’t _ need _ a confidence boost. That much was obvious to anyone who saw him.

A glance in a mirror he passed just proved it. His hair was still perfect, his suit immaculate. His face was calm and serene. He  _ oozed _ confidence. No one would ever know he was feeling anxious.

No, it wasn’t confidence he needed.

He needed to destress.

He needed to talk to Yuri.

Yuri, who made him laugh.

Yuri, who, it seemed, could see the bright side of things no matter what.

Yuri, who fidgeted and blushed and sputtered.

Yuri, with his fluffy and messy hair and his expressive, cherry brown eyes.

Yuri, who was just a guy he met off the street and had made his entire world  _ stop _ . Who, in two hours, had made Victor feel more like a person than he ever had before.

Yuri would listen to him, he knew he would. Even if he was vague, Yuri would listen and try to relate and would encourage him. He may even grumble too. And Victor knew it would make him feel better.

But he couldn’t do that.

He didn’t have time, for one thing, not now. But he hadn’t heard from Yuri since that morning. He was trying not to let that stress him more. He didn’t know the other’s schedule, that had just met, they were barely  _ friends _ , if he could even call them that.

All he wanted was to see a message from him. To hear his voice. He had never felt like he needed to be close to someone like he had Yuri.

He loved his friends, sure, but he wanted more than that. He craved it. None of his dates had ever made him want to have something that lasted. They were fun, but they didn’t  _ get  _ him. They were all frugal. A physical connection, not emotional. He hadn’t cared for more.

Until Yuri.

He felt like Yuri would understand him,

But Yuri didn’t know him, not really. He only knew Vitya.

“You ready?”

Victor blinked, the large oak doors of the conference room in front of him. He glanced over to Mila, dressed in her uniform of a solid black dress, simple black shoes, and black tights. Georgi stood beside her in his own solid black suit. He gave a small nod, and the pair of servants that were more like family to him bowed.

“The court awaits you, your Highness,” Georgi said.

“Tea will be served in half an hour,” Mila added.

The pair rose from their bows and shared a look.

“Good luck, Vic,” they both whispered. It brought a small smile to his face.

“Thanks, guys.”

The pair smiled before following back into their professional roles. They stepped to either side of him and grasped the door handles. One smooth tug and the doors pulled open. Victor drew in a deep breath and took the step needed to cross the threshold. Georgi’s voice followed him in, clear and strong.

“Presenting, his Royal Highness, Victor Nikiforov, crown prince of Rostelecom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I’ve introduced Yuri Plisetsky, I’d like to note that in scenes involving mentions of both him and Yuri Katsuki, he will be called “Yura” by Victor! I feel it would be weird to call have Victor suddenly call him by a new nickname, and since “Yurio” was invented by Mari, Yura fits better!
> 
> Thanks for reading and joining me on this journey!


	6. Chapter 6

“Are you sure he’s okay?”

“He’ll be fine. I’ve seen him like this before.”

“I don’t think blacking out like that is healthy, though.”

“Are you  _ really  _ sure—“

“I think he’s coming to!”

Yuri could hear the voices, could hear the words, but they didn’t really mean anything to him. It took him a second to register that he’d passed out at all, and even longer to figure out what was going on.

He was on his side. He didn’t think he was on the floor, whatever was under him felt too soft. That was good. There was a warm weight over him. A blanket, maybe. There was another weight resting somewhere between his chest and waist, draped across him. His head didn’t feel like it was on the same surface the rest of his body was. What was he laying on?

He scrunched up his nose and forced himself to open his eyes. The light was ridiculously bright and everything was blurry. Had someone taken his glasses off? Had to have. Why else would it be this hard to see? He thought he could make out a couple pairs of legs though.

“Hey, you okay there, Yuri?” Ah, that was Leo’s voice.

Yuri tried to speak, but just let out a grunt instead. He was still struggling to pull his mind back to consciousness. These blackouts rarely happened, but he had a hard time coming to every time. His mind and body just shut down from the anxiety and stress, a complete system reboot.

“Can you guys go get some ice water?” That was Phichit. He was...above him?

Oh, he was laying in Phichit’s lap. That explained the difference in softness, and the weight over him. Phichit must have his arm over him to keep him grounded.

Phichit was a good best friend.

“Yeah, we’ll be right back.”

Two sets of footsteps trotted off, and the blurry legs disappeared. Yuri closed his eyes again, taking deep breaths to ground himself and bring his mind out of the fog. Phichit stayed quiet, and Yuri felt his fingers run through his hair. It gave him something to focus his senses on. The press of finger pads on his scalp, the slight tug when his hair was pushed back, the weight as it flopped back in place before the motion was repeated.

He heard footsteps again and voices, but this time he didn’t listen to the words. He didn’t care. He stayed still, keeping his breaths deep and even until focusing on the hair pets let him feel everything else again. Only then did he open his eyes again and move to sit up. Phichit lifted his arm for him, but put it around his shoulders as he settled onto the couch and placed the blanket over his lap. His best friend passed him his glasses and waited for Yuri to get them on before handing him a glass of cold water.

Yuri took a slow sip, followed by another, then another. The water soothed his overly dry throat, and the cold helped shock his body the rest of the way into functional consciousness. It let him retrace his mental steps to figure out what exactly had caused him to have an anxiety blackout.

_ Vitya...Victor...how… _

“Better?” Phichit asked, giving Yuri’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. Yuri glanced over at him and nodded slowly.

“I think so.”

Phichit pulled his arm away at that and turned so he was completely facing Yuri. His eyes were worried, and he kept his hands in his lap. It was the position he took whenever after a bad anxiety episode. Out of all their housemates, Phichit was the only one who knew how bad Yuri’s anxiety could be, and, therefore, how to calm him down and to anticipate an anxiety attack.

“What happened? I kind of pride myself on knowing what your triggers are, but I didn’t notice anything that could have set you off like that. Is there something going on you haven’t told me about?”

Yuri shook his head and took another sip of his water. “Nothing could have been done about this one,” he explained. “I got caught off guard.”

“How so?”

How did he even begin to explain this? “Vitya...he…” Yuri swallowed, feeling his heart race and his chest grow tight. He brought the glass up to take another drink as Phichit squeezed his knee.

“Who’s Vitya? Is he the guy you met?” Yuri gave a nod and Phichit frowned. “What did he do? I swear, if he hurt you—“

“It’s nothing like that.” Yuri sighed and gripped the glass in both of his hands to keep them from shaking. “I...I think he’s Victor.”

“...Yuri, you can’t possibly—“

“I know it sounds stupid! But, I swear, they’re the same person, Peach. They look the same, they sound the same, they came into town at the  _ same time _ . I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before. I ran face first  _ into him _ . And he’s talked to me and he has my  _ number _ and I don’t know why now because I’m lightyears out of his league and—“

“Okay, okay, whoa! Slow down!” Phichit grabbed Yuri’s face and made him look at him. “Breathe. In and out. Slowly. That’s it. Breathe with me, Yuri.”

Yuri forced himself to do just that, his eyes wide but focused on Phichit. The tightness in his chest eased up, his gasping breaths evened out, his heart slowed. He hadn’t realized he’d been trembling until he felt his muscles relax.

“Listen to me, Yuri,” Phichit said. “Finish that water, and then go take a shower. A nice, long shower. Once you're done, we’re going for a walk before you have to be at work, okay? You need to talk this out, but you need to clear your head first and I doubt you want Leo and Guang-Hong to overhear, or have to deal with Kenjirou’s energy either. Right?”

“Right.”

“Thought so. Now go. Shower.”

*******

“So...what makes you so convinced this Vitya guy is the prince? I mean, I get why the idea of that freaked you out. I can’t say I would’ve been exactly calm about it either.”

“I already told you—“

“Humor me and walk me through it again.”

“Are you actually confused or are you just wanting me to talk?”

“Does it matter?”

Yuri let out a soft sigh and shook his head. He took a sip from the cup of hot cider he held in his hands. He and Phichit had wandered their way down to Midland Park, which was quite busy for a Thursday afternoon actually, and had found a small coffee stand. Yuri had opted out of coffee, though. The last thing he needed right now was caffeine.

Phichit had been kind when they first left Celestino’s boarding house, staying quiet so Yuri could decompress or making small talk that kept his mind off his current anxiety. But that could only last so long, and Midland Park had opened up the door of opportunity for him to start getting Yuri to talk without being worried about being overheard or judged or having a panic attack.

“Okay, so,  _ again _ , they look  _ exactly _ —“

“Unless you can back that up with proof, you can’t use physical similarities as a reason.”

Yuri stopped walking, fixing Phichit with the deadly Katsuki deadpan.

“What?”

“How can I  _ not _ use that? It’s the best evidence.”

Phichit sighed, one hand in his jacket pocket. “Well, for one, everyone has a doppelgänger, you know,” he said. “And okay, circumstances are against that, but it’s still possible. But at the same time, I don’t get how you, the biggest Victor Nikiforov simp—“

“I’m not a simp!”

“—Couldn’t possibly recognize him.” Phichit paused, staring hard at Yuri as he took a long sip from his chai latte.

The way he could go from being so accommodating to making Yuri uncomfortable and then back again was a supernatural talent. It wasn’t fair.

“He looks different—“

“He cut his hair and lost his baby fat. He’s not that different.”

Yuri huffed. “There hasn’t been any official pictures of him for two or three years,” he reminded Phichit. “Even paparazzi coverage was minimal. The crown, and I’m sure whatever boarding school he attended, kept what he was doing and where he was pretty well under wraps. He may have been sixteen when he left, but being crown prince is still a high profile position. Safety had to be a concern if he was going to study abroad.”

“I guess, but surely something would’ve shown up on Instagram somewhere. I may be the social media wizard, but you can stalk an account like no one I’ve ever met, and I know you follow his account.”

“Uh...thanks?” He didn’t really consider himself an account stalker. He just liked to scroll and he knew how to look for the right things if someone wanted to know something...okay, maybe he stalked. A little. He was an anxious introvert, sue him for being observant. “But, I follow the official account. Those are basically used for business only. It was a lot of charity promotions while he was gone. There wasn’t a picture of him until after the presentation this morning.”

“Maybe he has a personal account?”

“If he does, it’s well under wraps. I know if we were in Saga he couldn’t. It’s illegal for the nobility to have personal social media.”

“So glad I’m not a noble from Saga.”

“You’d die without a personal social media account.”

The pair laughed as they rounded a corner of the walking path. The tree line took up the space to their right, the leaves that still hung to the branches as vibrant as they were earlier in the fall, while the left had the beginnings of a public skating rink taking shape. Yuri would find himself down here more than once as soon as it opened.

“Still,” Phichit said. “If they look so similar, I don’t get how you didn’t notice. Victor still looks like Victor, even without documenting the changes as they happened.”

“Well...I couldn’t really see his hair yesterday. He had on a hat, and he had on glasses. Victor has never worn glasses,” Yuri explained. “At least, not in public.”

“You’re saying he pulled a comic book hero move on you?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Bet that’s really making you swoon,” Phichit said with a wicked smirk.

“Phichit!”

Phichit busted out laughing. Yuri’s face was bright red, his eyes wide. He didn’t know if he was embarrassed or irked or grumpy that he was right.

“Well, at least you believe me now,” he muttered.

Phichit clapped him on the back, still snickering at his expense. “I never disbelieved you. I’m just trying to get you to talk it out and understand why you freaked out so much.”

“Yeah, I hear ya.” Yuri glanced up at the sky. “But, honestly? Now that the shock has worn off, I’m not surprised so much as I am confused.”

“How so?”

“Give me a second.”

They fell silent, walking along the path. The wind rustled the trees, and there were the sounds of kids playing and the occasional dog barking. It was still a normal day, even with Victor’s grand return. People didn’t stop moving just because he came back. As odd as it was, it helped ground Yuri some, too.

The world kept going. His problems wouldn’t stop it. Victor wouldn’t stop it. They were both just two people out of millions. A blip on the radar.

“Part of it is I didn't expect Victor to be...like he is,” he finally said.

“Which is?”

“Genuine. Like...a normal person.”

“I’d like to call that Pedestal Syndrome.”

“That’s a good way to put it.”

“Thanks. I try.”

Yuri smiled and sipped at his cooling cider. “But the rest,” he continued, “I think part of me is confused as to why he would take time out of his day to notice someone like me. And part of me is definitely freaking out that he  _ is _ Victor for a lot of reasons.”

“Which are?”

“Having my phone number, being friends with him...liking him.”

“Elaborate, Yuri.”

“Vitya...Victor...I don’t know how…”

“Just try.”

“...I really,  _ really _ like him. I want to be friends with him, but I want it to be more than that. Yesterday afternoon was one of the best times I’ve had in a long time. He was funny and sweet and he listened to me. Like how you or Mari or Yuuko listen to me. It felt like we were in sync. And that scares me to death.”

Phichit stayed quiet, but he did have a small smile on his face and his eyes were warm and bright. “That doesn’t sound like a bad thing,” he said.

“It’s not. It’s terrifying as hell, especially since he’s out of my league—“

“Obviously not if he gave you his number, man.”

“But it’s more than that,” Yuri continued. “I think I could live with all that, or figure out how to handle it at least.”

“What else is there?”

“This is going to sound stupid.”

“It won’t, I promise.”

Yuri stopped walking and stared at his feet. He felt an ache in his chest. He wrapped his jacket tighter around himself, even though the wind had stopped for the moment.

“I...I’m really hurt that he didn’t just tell me who he was and I had to find out this way.”

He clenched his teeth, and the hand that wasn’t holding his cup curled into a fist. He was shaking. His throat burned worse than the time he had strep throat as a kid. Tears flowed hot and warm down his cheeks, fogging up his glasses.

“Yuri…”

“If he liked me enough to give me his number, why didn’t he just tell me?” He choked back a sob, trying to hold himself together. He didn’t want to break down in public. Phichit’s arms wrapped around him, and he buried his face against his best friend’s shoulder. “Why didn’t he want me to know it was him? How am I supposed to talk to him now?”

“It’s gonna be okay, Yu.”

“How? How is it going to be okay? What if he stops talking to me because I found out who he is? What if he thinks I care more about that than  _ him _ ?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“I don’t want to lose him, Peach.”

Those last words were spoken in a shaky whisper. Yuri knew he was feeling too strongly about this, somewhere inside of himself. But no one had ever made him feel like Vitya had. And even if he knew, logically, Victor was probably trying to lay low until he got home, it didn’t matter.

He had a heart of glass, he always had, and it was shattering.

This felt personal and it hurt and it ached more than anything. His homesickness had never felt like this. Leaving Vicchan hadn’t felt like this. Saying goodbye to his friends during breaks hadn’t felt like this.

“We’re gonna get you through this, okay Yu?” Phichit said. “We’ll figure this out and I’ll make sure it’s gonna be okay. I promise.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because even princes need their best friend sometimes.

_ Coats in the left or right closet? Or split them? I could put the nicer ones in the right with my suits. But if I put all of them in the left, I would have more room for official outfits. But do I really want official clothing up here? Those are really just for special occasions… _

“Hey. Earth to the Victorship. Please respond.”

Victor blinked a few times, glancing from the open box in front of him over to his phone on the desk.

“Ah, sorry Chris,” he said. “Unpacking is a pain.”

A laugh sounded over the line. “I’m surprised you didn’t have someone else do that, Mr. Nikiforov. Aren’t you above such menial work?”

“If I didn’t do it, I’d be rearranging things for weeks. Probably still will be for a few days. How do you split your coats?”

“My coats have their own closet, my friend.”

“Right. I forget you have a closet for everything. Including your underwear.”

“Hey, I have to make sure I look good for anyone who stops by.”

“Because your overnight guests pay attention.”

“Always be prepared, Victor. That’s my motto.”

“I thought that meant with a condom.”

“Well, yes, that too.”

Victor chuckled softly as he moved the box of coats aside. He could figure them out later. For now, he decided to focus on his books and knick knacks instead. His suite and bedroom needed to look lived in, not barren. He’d go insane if things were left bare for longer than necessary.

“So, you were saying?”

“You remember that guy with the undercut who lived across from us last year?”

“Yeah, that John Jack Lenox guy?”

“Jean-Jacques Leroy.”

“Whatever.”

“Anyway, he’s acting like a big hotshot around campus,” Chris explained. “Calling himself ‘King JJ’ even.”

“Isn’t he a duke’s son?”

“He is. But with you gone, he thinks he rules the roost, and it’s only spurred on by the fact that he’s a Salchow native.”

Victor snorted.  _ That punk the leader of the school? Please. He couldn’t lead his way out of a cereal box. _

“So what, he’s what? 15?”

“18.”

“Still. He can’t be that popular.”

“Maybe not if you were still around. But with you graduating and leaving, people are gravitating towards him like he’s a sun or something. It’s a bit disgusting, actually.”

“Are you jealous, Chris?”

“Of him? Hardly. I get plenty of action on my own. I did even with you here.” The other man sighed. “I still can’t believe you left me here. All these fine asses and no one to share them with.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No! It’s boring now!”

“You’re dramatic.”

“Always.”

Victor rolled his eyes and carried an armload of books to his shelf. He could see in his mind’s eye how Chris would be draped across his bed, pouting at his phone and hoping that, somehow, Victor would feel the puppy dog gaze.

Which, he definitely could.

“Just relax. You’ll be done in the spring anyway,” he said. He cocked his head to the side, gazing at his shelf.

_ Organize by genre or author? Or both? I don’t want my classics mixed in with my contemporaries. _

“I know, but I wish you were here. Why did you have to graduate early?”

“You know why.”

“But coming of age isn’t a big deal. I won’t be taking the throne when I hit 21 in a few months.”

“Your parents are still living, remember?”

A beat of awkward silence passed. The only sound in the room was that of Victor’s socks moving over the floor and a jingle from Makkachin’s collar from the sitting room as the poodle turned on his bed.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Christophe Giacometti, crown prince of Lutz, was Victor’s best friend and confidant. Had been ever since they met at five years old. Lutz and Rostelecom had always been strong allies, so the two had practically grown up together. They knew each other’s homes as well as their own. Victor had been the first person Chris had come out too, and Chris had helped him explore his own bisexuality when they hit their teenage years and their hormones were raging.

And Chris was there when Victor’s parents had tragically passed. He’d stayed even longer than his family had, making sure Victor never felt alone and that he had someone there to break down on. Having a loving family one day and then being an orphan the next was hard for any nine year old to process

Being groomed for a throne on top of it all had nearly broken him. It was no wonder he’d grown depressed as he got older.

But, even so, sometimes Chris forgot the pressure that loss put on Victor and how much it still ached all these years later. It wasn’t his fault, Victor would never blame him. Chris just couldn’t understand. He hoped his best friend would never have to.

“So, made any birthday plans yet?” Chris asked. Victor saw the obvious topic change for what it was and ran with it.

“No, not yet. I’m sure Lilia’s already planning something though,” he mused.

“That’s not a surprise. You know I’ll be there, no matter what gets planned.”

“I know, and I appreciate it. What political books should I keep in my room and which ones should I put in my office?”

“Keep your philosophical ones in your room. Your textbooks, put in the office. You’ll need the reference material later.”

“Point taken,” Victor said and started sorting through his books. “I’m not sure I want a big birthday bash this year.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“The answer is the same as when I cut my hair.”

“May it rest in peace.”

“Chris…”

“Victor…”

Chris’s tone was full of sass and snark, the mark of a true drama queen. It made Victor roll his eyes as he emptied the box of books and set it aside. The next box was filled with various shoes, including his ice skates. This box would be easy to sort out.

“Since when do you not want a big birthday?” Chris continued.

“Would you believe me if I said the time away from home humbled me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Worth a try.” Victor hung his skate bag up in his left closet before resting his finger on his chin. “I suppose part of it is I’m overwhelmed. The attention is nice, I won’t deny it, but it’s...different here than it was in Salchow.”

There was a rustle over the phone, probably from Chris shifting on his bed. “I understand that feeling. Being home over the summer was a different kind of energy.”

“It’s like being worshipped—“

“—is exhausting.”

They both laughed, and Victor shook his head. He was glad he had a friend like Chris. Someone who understood him to a fault, sometimes better than he did himself. Sometimes that was a good thing. A really good thing. Having someone to relate to was special.

“But,” he added. “I met someone who didn’t consider a birthday a big deal and, believe it or not, I understand his point.”

“Oh?” Chris’s voice gained a curious lilt. He probably had a brow raised. “Do tell me about this fellow who has calmed your viewpoint down.”

Victor sat a pair of sneakers down and came to sit at his desk. He needed a break anyway, so why not indulge the other prince’s curiosity? No harm, no foul. “I don’t really know him too well. I just met him yesterday, which happened to be his birthday, coincidentally.”

“Well, meeting the marvelous Winter Prince probably made his entire year. Talk about starting on the right foot for the guy.”

“....He doesn’t know that.”

There was a gurgling noise, followed by the sound of a raspberry and harsh coughs.

“Chris? You okay?”

“What do you mean he doesn’t know?!”

The shout was loud and Victor jumped, fumbling his phone and barely catching it before it hit the floor. Even Makkachin came trotting into the room. The poodle yawned and shook when he entered, and came to sit beside his owner. Victor ran his fingers through Makkachin’s fur and sat his phone on his desk. He didn’t want to risk throwing it again.

“I mean—“

“Victor do you realize who you are?”

“Yes?”

“There is no way that guy did not know.”

“I was incognito!”

“You aren’t subtle, my friend.”

“I wasn’t jumped on the way home so it obviously was subtle enough!”

“Still,” Chris said, “Maybe you could hide from glances but wouldn’t you be obvious if someone spent any time with you?”

“Not really?” Victor said. He placed his elbow on the desk so he could rest his chin in his hand. “I may be recognizable, but people don’t really know  _ me _ here. Everything I show is professional or scripted or an act. You know I had a hard time breaking out of that even in Salchow.”

“Yeah, and it made me worry about you. I don’t like that shell you put yourself in. I can tell when you aren’t really happy, even if you pretend for everyone else. That Nikiforov charm may be legendary, but I prefer the idiotic nerd.”

“You’re one of the few who gets that part of me.”

“You know, you’d probably have had better luck keeping a date if you opened up.”

“Dating was for fun. No one was ever serious before.”

“I know, but—wait. Before?”

_ Oops. _

Victor’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he dry swallowed. His already pale skin went paler. “Yeah?” He reached up, ruffling the back of his hair.

“Did you ask the guy who doesn’t know you but should out?”

“Technically no—“

“Spill, Nikiforov.”

“Chris—“

“ _ Now. _ ”

Out of fear of being strangled through the phone, Victor conceded and told Chris about Yuri. How they met, what they did, what he was like. He was trying not to gush, but he knew he’d failed in that area when Chris’s noncommittal noises developed a bit more of a lilt. He could see the moe face, too. Chris’s green eyes would be big and wide, and he’d have this catlike grin.

“Victor Nikiforov, I do believe you are in love.”

“I am not!”

“Smitten.”

“Chris.”

“Twitterpated.”

“Chris.”

“I can already hear the wedding bells.”

“ _ Chris _ —“

“Victor and Yuri, sittin’ in a tree,” Chris began to sing. “K-I-S-S-I-N—“

“ _ Christophe!” _

Chris laughed, though Victor didn’t find any of this funny. His face was bright red. If Chris was here, he’d punch him. But he couldn’t, so the temptation to throw his phone out the window was pretty noticeable.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” Chris said mirthfully. “Only so you don’t have an aneurism. You can’t tell me I’m wrong.”

Victor huffed and set his phone down so he could pick up Makkachin. He set his large floofer in his lap and wrapped his arms through his fluffy midsection. Makkachin let out the quietest of boofs as he got settled, front paws on Victor’s shoulders. “Maybe you aren’t. Not that it matters. I just met him. And I haven’t heard from him since earlier today. He may not even be interested.”

“Relax, Vic. He’s interested.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I have a hunch.” Victor pouted at his phone. He could hear shuffling and the rustling of some kind of fabric. “Have you asked to see him again?”

“No…”

“And why not?”

“I don’t want to overwhelm him,” Victor admitted. “Besides, the next several weeks will be packed for me, and now that it’s known I’m back, I’m not sure I can go into town without being hounded. I don’t want to put that kind of attention on Yuri yet.”

“Poor common boy wouldn’t know what hit him. But maybe he’d like the attention?”

“I don’t think so. It might freak him out more than anything.”

“Point. But don’t give up on him because of your worries. You need someone at your side that would make you happy. I want that for you,” Chris said. “I’ll support you, though, no matter what you decide.”

Victor relaxed and smiled, burying his face in Makkachin’s neck. “Thanks, Chris.”

“What was that?”

“Don’t be an ass…”

“Victor, seriously, you’re all muffled. I can’t hear you.”

“Oh!” He lifted his head a bit. “I said thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Stop smothering yourself in Makka.”

“I-I wasn’t!”

“I smell your pants burning.”

“Shut up, Christophe!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready, because everything is about to change.

Two and a half weeks was all it took for the air in Rostelecom to change. The crisp comfort of November faded into the biting chill of December. A few snow showers had even blown through, but hadn’t amounted to much; a dusting on bushes or the edge of sidewalks here and there, but nothing substantial. Mostly, it was the biting wind people noticed, or the last leaf falling.

Still, people had been out and about. The shopping districts were as busy as ever and the parks saw more people each day as skating rinks and cocoa stands and winter markets popped up. Even some of the restaurants still had their outdoor seating open.

The outdoor seating area of Château de Glace is where Yuri found himself spending a lot of time lately. With finals coming up, he couldn’t stay home much. While everyone on his floor was studying too, it still got a bit noisy. Leo and Guang-Hong both were involved in group projects and sometimes said groups took over the common area. Yuri didn’t mind staying in his room, but the boarding house walls weren’t exactly thick and hearing a bunch of 17 and 18 year olds arguing about things not related to school got a bit annoying.

And then there was Kenjirou. Yuri had nothing against him, he was cool, but Kenjirou Minami had far too much energy in that tiny body of his. He was constantly bouncing around and gushing, and he’d latched onto Yuri as a sort of mentor. They both were from Saga, so it made sense. And he really didn’t mind. But those vast reserves of energy drained Yuri and he _really_ couldn’t focus on his own classes if Kenjirou was constantly asking him for help. Once this semester was done, Yuri only had another year, maybe a year and a half, left before he’d be finished and graduated with a degree. He couldn’t afford to have to retake a class now.

So Yuri sat bundled up at one of Glace’s tables, one next to the building to help block the wind, a cup of hot coffee next to his pile of textbooks and notebooks. He was grateful that the Nishigoris didn’t mind that he hung out here to study, and he was extra grateful for his employee discounts. He’d been eating there way more than usual, taking meals in between study hours and his shifts.

He flipped a page in his Advanced Economics textbook and took a sip of his coffee when his phone buzzed. He glanced over to read the notification before he picked the (still cracked) device up to respond.

_Vitya:_

_ >> Finals suck! X( _

_ >> What’s your major? _

_Yuri:_

_ >> No kidding… _

_ >> Tourism and Hospitality Management with a minor in Financial Analysis _

_ >> You? _

Yuri sighed and put his phone back down and turned to the next section in his book.

A day and a half after Victor’s public return, Yuri had been able to buck up the courage to talk to him again. Not that he broached the subject of Victor’s status ever. He didn’t want to be rude, but he didn’t think he could handle it either yet. He kept calling him Vitya and didn’t push for more than Victor was willing to give.

On the bright side, Victor had seemed ecstatic when Yuri started messaging him again, and they’d talked at least some every day the last couple of weeks. He definitely liked that. He definitely liked Victor. But it wasn’t helping his crush, just making it worse. That didn’t seem like a good thing. Friends or not, Victor still felt miles out of his reach, and the butterflies he got whenever Victor messaged him felt more like a swarm of wasps sometimes because of it.

He shook his head to clear it and focused back in on his studies. Advanced Econ was not his strongest subject, and even though the exam was still a couple weeks away, he wanted to be well prepared.

_I swear Micro was less difficult to understand. The terms are the same, but the application is going over my head…_

A few minutes went by and Yuri groaned, rubbing at his temples. He kept staring at the same spot and he wasn’t absorbing anything. With a small huff, he stood from the table and made his way into the warmth of the café. It wasn’t that busy since it was the middle of the afternoon, so he walked up to the counter and waved to the back.

“Hey! Takeshi!”

A heartbeat passed before Takeshi came out front and leaned on the counter. “‘Sup little man?” he asked. “How’s the studying going?”

“It’s...going,” Yuri admitted. “Can I get one of the cucumber paninis? If it’s not too much trouble.”

Takeshi let out a rolling belly laugh and clapped his hand on Yuri’s head, making the smaller man squeak. “Course it’s not a problem! I’ll have it right up, just wait here!”

“Th-Thanks.”

Yuri leaned against the counter and watched as Takeshi pushed through the large swinging door to the kitchen. He waited until he could see him through the open window before speaking again. “Where’s Yuuko today? I didn’t think she ever took time off.”

“Huh? Oh, the girls got out of school early today, so she was taking them to one of the rinks before it gets dark.”

“Oh okay. Makes sense. Can’t say I blame her. Wonder if she beat the crowds?”

“No idea. Not that I’d say it matters. Axel, Lutz, and Loop will carve circles around everyone else. You been yet?”

“No kidding. But no. School’s kicking me harder than Vicchan used to when I lived at home. Have you ever slept with a squirmy poodle? He gave me bruises.”

“No but I’ve slept with Yuuko. Can’t be much different.”

“I’m going to tell her you said that.”

“If you value your boss’s life, please don’t.”

Yuri let out a laugh and shook his head, easing out of the conversation as one of the servers headed back to the kitchen. He pulled his phone out to mess around, and noticed the new messages.

_Vitya:_

_ >> Double Major in Political Science and Business Management _

_ >> Double Minor in Finance and Literature _

_ >> Hey! If you need help with the finance stuff lmk!!! _

_ >> Why T&HM? Wouldn’t have pegged you for that _

Yuri’s teeth sank into his bottom lip. There it was, a crack in the door he’d seen so many times. Hints that he could squeeze in and ask Victor about his status, about why he hadn’t told him yet. Did he not trust him? Did he like having a friend that was a poor immigrant kid? Did he want Yuri to figure it out on his own? There were so many things he could ask but…

He didn’t.

_Yuri:_

_ >> Overachiever much _

_ >> Did you take anything for fun? _

_ >> Eh family business _

_ >> My family owns a resort back in Saga. I’m supposed to take it over at some point with my sister. That’s the plan anyway. _

_Assuming we can stay afloat that long,_ he thought. He sometimes felt bad that he was in Rostelecom and couldn’t help keep things afloat back home. Their resort was the last in the area, and they had excelled for a while, but even that wasn’t enough. The region wasn’t thriving like it once had. And even though everyone assured him things were fine, he knew better and he still sent money home when he could.

He pocketed his phone again as Takeshi brought his food to the counter. “Thank you. Again.”

“Don’t mention it,” Takeshi said. “You know, you could come sit in here and be out of the cold. Wouldn’t bother anyone.”

“It’s more the customer noise bothering me,” Yuri explained. “I’ll come in when my shift starts.”

“If you’re sure…”

Yuri gave a nod and took his plate and carried it outside to his table. He sat down and took a bite before diving headfirst into his book again. He felt his phone buzz after a few minutes, but he forced himself to plow through the section before he even looked at it.

_Vitya:_

_ >> Literature was for fun! I took other things too _

_ >> Family business? Same tbh _

_ >> Why I chose my major I mean _

_ >> my family doesn’t own a hotel _

_ >> though that does sound neat _

The half of the panini Yuri had eaten churned in his stomach. Without thinking, he started typing, his thumbs moving swiftly over the keyboard.

_ >> I guess you can call royalty a family business, but it’s not the same. You have the world at your fingertips. I wish we were on the same playing field. I can’t get close to you and what you have. _

His heart ached in his chest and he sighed, deleting the message as soon as he’d typed it. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t say that to Victor. Even if it was true.

Why did the gap between them have to be so big?

He slumped down so his chin was on the table and went to type a new message that he’d actually send. He paused when a new message came through.

_Vitya:_

_ >> But is that what you want? _

_Huh? Why would he care about that?_

Yuri frowned a little before he finally answered.

_Yuri:_

_ >> Name one class you took just for the hell of it. _

_ >> technically it’s a hot springs resort _

_ >> it’s what I was raised to do _

He put his phone face down on the table. He had seen the bouncing dots indicating Victor was typing back, but he couldn’t wait for the response. He had to focus. Switching his books, he moved to a different subject that wouldn’t make his brain hurt. With only an hour left before his shift started, he needed to make the most of his remaining study time for the day.

Econ was not going to do that for him.

Thankfully, the strategy worked and he felt productive until he needed to put his books up. Yuri loaded his things into his borrowed bag (a new guy on their floor, Seung-Gil Lee, had an extra he let Yuri have, bless his soul), and headed inside to the locker room in the back. He changed out of his street clothes and into his uniform, checking his phone for notifications once more before he put it in his locker.

_Vitya:_

_ >> I took a floral arrangement class actually! _

_ >> I sucked at it though :P _

_ >> Wow!~~~ _

_ >> But that’s not what I asked _

Yuri sighed and sat down to put his shoes on, replying quickly.

_Yuri:_

_ >> It’s the truth. I don’t know anything else _

_ >> Besides, why does it matter? _

_Vitya:_

_ >> That doesn’t mean you couldn’t or shouldn’t choose for yourself _

_ >> And it matters because I know what it’s like to feel stuck and only do something because it’s what’s “right”. And it sucks. _

>> You deserve better than that.  
  


“Hey! You’ve got tables 11 through 15 tonight Yuri!”

“Right! On my way!”

Responding to Victor would have to wait. He tugged his shoes on and locked his phone and other belongings in his locker. He tied his apron around his waist and headed out to greet his first table of the evening.

The dinner shift was about normal for a weeknight, not too busy but busy enough that Yuri didn’t get bored or anxious that he wasn’t spending enough time with one table. He was always pleased to see his regulars, too. Glacé was small and family owned, and that meant some of their clientele treated the employees as friends. He had three tables ask him about how his studies were going, and one asked him about some interesting places to go in Saga for a family vacation they were taking after the new year. They all tipped him well, too.

To say he loved his job was an understatement.

Still, he found himself dwelling on the last message from Victor as he worked.

_You deserve better than that._

Why would Victor care that much about what Yuri had planned for his future. Stupid idiot. If Yuri didn’t want to run the onsen one day, he would’ve said so before. Right?

He let out a soft huff of irritation as he bussed a table in between orders being filled. Why was he even thinking about it like it mattered anyway? The onsen was home. Always was.

_Why did his messages seem so...sad? Does he not want to rule? Gah, don’t be stupid. He probably just meant like being in a bad class or relationship or something like that. He’s on top of the world. It’s where he belongs._

Still, it didn’t stop him from trying to figure it. In between drink refills and food orders and calls for dessert or the occasional spill, his mind was held by Victor.

Every conversation they’d had to this point had been...energetic and sarcastic and sometimes borderline stupid. Victor was kind of a dumbass sometimes, but in an endearing way. He was pretty happy-go-lucky and his biggest complaint was being bored. Yuri sometimes wondered if he was getting to know a side of the prince not many people saw. He certainly never acted like a complete goofball when he made public appearances.

The idea both thrilled and terrified him.

As the evening crowd thinned out and closing time approached, Yuri bussed all the tables in his area. He hefted a full bin of dishes against his hip to take back to the kitchen, only to pause at a table where someone had left a copy of the evening paper. He set the bin down for a moment, the front page having caught his eye.

Most of the page was taken up by two pictures of Victor. The one on the left was him as a child, his silver hair long and pulled back, eyes tightly closed thanks to the massive heart-shaped grin on his face. He may have been ten, at most. His cheeks had a bit of pudge to them. Pinchable cheeks, as Yuri’s grandmother would have called them.

Yuri had pinchable cheeks and the thought just made them sting from the memories.

The right picture was recent. It probably was taken after Victor returned home. He was smiling in it too, but it was wrong. It wasn’t the heart-shaped one of the boy on the left, or of the man that Yuri met. That smile took up Victor’s whole face and he glowed with it. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and his irises sparkled. But this smile...it didn’t reach his eyes at all. It was professional.

_I never would have noticed if I didn’t know better myself._

Was Victor really unhappy?

Yuri shook off the worries and scanned the headline.

**_The Winter Prince’s Birthday! What the Palace Has Planned to Celebrate Our Future King!_ **

Yuri’s eyes skimmed down the page, and then went wide.

_Is this real?!_


	9. Chapter 9

“You have got to be  _ fucking _ kidding me!”

“Victor Nikiforov! A prince does not use such language!”

_ I’m almost 21. I’ll use whatever language I damn well fucking please. _

That’s what he  _ wanted  _ to say, but Victor grit his teeth and bit his tongue so he didn’t snap. It didn’t matter how old he was, Lilia could probably still kick his ass to the moon and back without breaking a nail. Sometimes he wondered if the reason her and Yakov had been together for as long as they were was because his godfather was a bit scared of her.

He wouldn’t blame him; Lilia still scared him sometimes.

He huffed and lifted the evening paper up in his hand. Not that Lilia was looking at him. She hadn’t looked up from whatever book she was reading since he’d come storming in.

“Was anyone going to run this birthday ball by me or was I just supposed to find out by reading about it in the paper myself?” He didn’t bother to hide his irritation. He wasn’t exactly  _ happy _ about the turn of events.

All he’d been doing was minding his own business. A morning full of meetings and a lunch with an earl (who’s name he’d already forgotten) had been followed by an afternoon of trying to organize his office (technically his father’s office. Technically not “officially” his until after his coronation. But he didn’t remember his father there much and there wasn’t anything there to even indicate it was his anyway and he needed a place to work while Yakov moved him through the early stages of transitioning roles, so did it really matter about technicalities?). He’d only stayed sane by talking to Yuri, though he’d much rather have been able to see him in person again. They’d exchanged Snapchats a few times (Victor always made sure he wore his glasses though. Yuri didn’t seem to have him figured out, and part of him was grateful for that) but that was all.

Victor wanted to see him, to hear his laugh, to feel the warmth he’d felt that day he was around him.

It wasn’t fair.

But, still, talking right now was all he had. And it kept him from ripping his hair out. He’d talked and worked until dinner. He’d curled up with Makkachin for a while, surfing the television just because he could. And then he got bored so he snuck down to the kitchens.

He would not admit to Lilia that he’d found the paper because he was sitting in the kitchen eating ice cream straight from the container, nor would he mention that it was because he was moping because Chris was busy and Yuri was at work and Yura slammed the door in his face and Mila and Georgi went to bed before he did.

But still. Point being the paper in his hand with his face plastered on the front page.

Lilia let out a sigh and flipped a page. “I’ll speak with Antonin tomorrow. It was supposed to be announced in tomorrow’s morning paper,” she said. “Such sloppy work.”

Victor’s left eye twitched under his fringe. He didn’t really blame Antonin, the guy was new. Shit happened. He wasn’t really upset that it got leaked out early. It wasn’t like it was state secrets or anything major.

“But was anyone going to tell  _ me?” _

“You were to be informed in the morning with Yuri.”

“But what about my input? It’s my birthday, surely someone should have  _ asked _ —“

“What did you have in mind?”

Victor’s words caught in his throat and he swallowed nervously. “I...I was just thinking of inviting some friends—“

“Feel free. The ball is an open event. We are not restricting the number of guests.”

“But I’ll be pulled in five hundred directions for a ball. It’s just a birthday—“

“You’re social, you’ll manage just fine. 21 is a big deal and will be celebrated as such.”

“Should we really have a ball when the coronation—“

“You’ve been gone too long,” Lilia said. She snapped her book shut and Victor clamped his mouth closed. Her tone never changed, but the sharp clunk of pages and hardcover coming together was enough to let him know he was pushing too much. “You are royal and there are expectations to be had for you and the court. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Are there any other problems?”

“No ma’am.”

“Good. We have tailors coming by this weekend to take measurements for you and Yuri. Have ideas for your outfit in mind. The plan is for a masquerade, so you’re free to be a bit extra.”

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

Lilia gave a nod and reopened her book. Victor shook his head and slunk off, heading up the stairs to his suite.

Victor didn’t  _ want _ a ball. But he couldn’t say it without being questioned relentlessly, and no one would understand why anyway. He was quickly being overwhelmed with everything, and having a spotlight thrown on him was something he didn’t want right now.

But if he told Yakov that, he’d just tell him it was a part of his duties. He’d get used to it all in time.

Lilia….if she didn’t outright ignore his complaints, would probably just tell him to suck it up. To “kill the meek Victor and rebuild him into a strong leader.”

As good as she was at etiquette and education, she really lacked tact.

He could already hear Yura.  _ “How the hell is the man who preens like a fucking peacock pissed off about attention?” _

Mila and Georgi...they’d get it, but they couldn’t help him. Not how he needed, anyway.

Chris was half a world away, and a phone call just wouldn’t do right now.

He needed to clear his head.

Makkachin’s head perked up when Victor entered his suite. He quickly pulled on a sweatshirt over his t-shirt before grabbing the bag from one of his closets.

“C’mon, Makka,” he said and whistled once. The poodle barked in response, shaking out his fur before trotting after his human.

Victor took every shortcut he knew to get to the lower levels of the eastern wing. He hadn’t been down here in years, but it was time. He needed stress relief and an outlet before he lost his royal mind. He needed a place that didn’t care if he was a prince or king to be. A place that he knew he was safe to be himself. To be free.

He reached the door and input the code to unlock it, glad it hadn’t changed. Not that there was a reason for it to. His hand searched the wall and he hit the switch, fluorescent lights humming and flickering to life to reveal the large ice rink in front of him.

A weight melted off Victor’s shoulders as he stepped over to a bench to switch his shoes out for his skates, complete with gold-plated blades; a gift from his eighteenth birthday. The rink itself could technically be argued to be a gift as well, it was his and his alone unless he decided to share it, but he knew Yakov and Lilia had had it built to keep him from sneaking out as a pre-teen to a pond or a public rink.

Once he had his boots tied to the right snugness, he motioned for Makkachin to stay at the bench and hobbled on blade guards to the entrance. The rubber bars were placed on the wall and he was off with a shot. The ice was smooth under his feet and he glided along it like he was skating on air.

He skated a few laps before falling into his groove again. Forward skating turned backwards, laps turned into figure-eights and swirls and twists along the glassy surface. He let himself get lost in how his body moved, the pounding of his heart, the feel of moving air over his face, the sound of his blades scratching and carving abstract patterns on the ice. He twirled and moved into different spins and jumps he’d taught himself when he was a kid.

He had never competed, and never would. His station didn’t allow it. Besides, he didn’t want to share his love for the ice. This was his. This was  _ him _ .

He was winter incarnate.

_ No, _ he realized as he dug the edges of his blades into the ice to make a sharp turn, frost flying up to his ankles.  _ I’m not winter. It never fit me. I  _ belong  _ to winter. _

He’d struggled with his identity for a while now. His time in Salchow had changed him, and had made him think about what he wanted in his life. He couldn’t change his position or his destiny, but there were things he could control, and the freedom he had abroad gave him a taste of that. But still, he wasn’t as free as he wanted to be.

He hadn’t been able to fly like he was currently doing across the ice.

He’d never been able to figure out what was missing from his life. He thought it was the loss of his parents, but that wasn’t it. He missed them dearly, and some days were still harder than others, but he was okay there. He just hoped they were proud of him.

He thought it was homesickness when he was in Salchow. That was certainly wrong. He loved home, but he was choking. His days were scheduled for him, his ideas scrutinized. He hadn’t even been asked about what he wanted for his own  _ birthday _ . No one had cared for his input. Shouldn’t he have been given that when in a month it would be  _ his  _ input that ultimately made decisions for the country?

His toe pick hit the ice with a sharp clack to send him into another jump. The world slowed around him as he spun and he hung in the air for an eternity, the large room becoming a blur of grey walls and white lights. But there was the brown of Makkachin too, the reds and blues of the padded walls, the reflection of gold on the crystal of the ice from his blades. He landed and his momentum took him into an easy backwards glide, his eyes going wide as he took in the mix of blues and whites and silvers that made up the expanse of frost around him.

_ “Winter does have color! All kinds of different shades of blue and white. The pops of red on people’s skin when it gets cold. The pinks and oranges when the sun hits the snow in the morning. Not to mention the way the light makes everything sparkle.” _

Victor’s lips curled into a smile, his hands coming up to rest over his heart as he moved into slow twists and turns over the ice. He could see what Yuri had meant. And he knew what had changed in him.

He wasn’t winter. And he was done being the Winter Prince. The people would call him that for a while still, sure, but it was time to make himself into something new. What was it he’d heard Lilia say before? Ah, right.

People who could be reborn as many times as necessary were the strong ones.

Victor was strong, as strong as the ice beneath his feet. He had been cracking for a while, but it was time for him to patch the cuts and grooves. He needed to melt his old ideas and insecurities away, mold himself into who he wanted to be.

This ball pissed him off, but not because it was a ball for him. A year ago, he’d have loved the idea and drank up the attention like a dying man. He’d play his role now, and he would enjoy it; he always had loved a good party. But it was time to make a stand.

He tucked his arms in and went for another jump, gaining more height than before. He could see even more detail this time, blurs of color becoming recognizable shapes and patterns before his right blade landed on the ice.

He knew (or had a vague idea, at least) of what had changed. It had been brewing in him for a while, he thought, and had just needed a catalyst. And he’d found it.

He was  _ not _ winter.

Winter was his favorite season, and a concept he could never use to describe himself accurately. Winter made him feel things, but he wasn’t those things.

He was not winter, he was a part of it.

He was  _ ice _ .

He was firm and hard, but supportive. He could be sharp as daggers, and his anger was cold. He was hard to crack, but when he did, the cracks weren’t small. He could be frozen solid, and he could be melted. He could be broken and worn down, but with the right care and attention, he could be brought back to a crystalline shine. He could be someone to trust in, but he could be slippery and tricky to handle. 

Looking like a human incarnation of an icicle certainly helped.

_ I am not the Winter Prince,  _ he thought, sending himself into a spin.  _ Not anymore. _

_ I will become the Ice King! _

Victor exited the spin and slowed himself down to a gentle glide around the rink, his chest heaving.

He was ice, and Yuri was his winter.

Yuri, whose presence was as comforting as a freshly fallen blanket of snow.

Yuri, whose laugh was as bright as the winter sun.

Yuri, whose personality was warm like a cup of hot cocoa. Complete with mini marshmallows and a healthy swirl of whipped cream.

Yuri, who made Victor feel complete when he thought of him.

He hadn’t known him long, but Victor felt in his heart that he belonged with Yuri. Somehow, someway he’d make that happen.

He would mold himself into an Ice King fit for Rostelecom. And Yuri would be his Snow Prince.

Somehow.

He just needed to see him again first.


	10. Chapter 10

Saturdays around the boarding house were usually full of energy and buzz; this Saturday was no exception. Saturdays were house chore days, per Celestino. 

Celestino was a good man to live under. He was pretty laid back and always willing to help his residents out if they were in a jam. The youngest members of the house tended to look up to him like a father figure (some of them didn’t have one to begin with), and he didn’t mind. He didn’t charge rent either, so long as his older residents were in school. Many of his residents were orphans or came from poor families either in Rostelecom or abroad.

But, he did have rules. He had a curfew for the house in place,10 PM for anyone under sixteen, and midnight for those older. Each floor was responsible for keeping their space neat and cleaned. Saturdays were for whole house cleaning and outdoor work, if it was needed.

Saturday mornings tended to cause a house full of movement and chatter. Four floors of boys and young men working made for a loud house. Add gossip to the mix, and voices bounced down staircases and around corners and through windows. The current week’s topics ranged from sports championships to, of course, the ball for Prince Victor’s birthday.

Somehow, though, both topics were overshadowed by the blanket of snow that had covered the ground overnight. It was the first true snow of the season, and the entire house moved through the chores faster than usual. By noon, the house was spotless.

And empty.

The youngest residents stayed near, holding snowball fights in the yard and nearby streets. The older ones let their studies be for a day and spread out across the city, bundled up in boots and coats and scarves.

The third floor gang had taken over Midland Park. The group of six had taken one round of hot cocoa before jumping into the busy skating rink. Kenjirou was skating after Seung-Gil, chatting his roommate’s ear off. It was hard to tell if the stoic eighteen-year-old was listening or ignoring him. Meanwhile Leo and Guang-Hong had found an open area to link hands and try to spin as fast as possible before they let go. One of them hit the ice every time, but with laughter.

Yuri skated laps with Phichit, simply enjoying the cold air and the joy that came with the snow and being on his skates again. Finals were stressful, but the ice made it all melt away.

“So, you decided what to do about this ball thing?” Phichit asked, a glint in his eye that Yuri knew meant danger for him. Phichit was too mischievous for his own good.

“What’s there to do about it?”

“It’s open to the public, are you going?”

Yuri sighed and turned on his blades so he was skating backwards. “Just because it’s open to the public doesn’t mean it’s appropriate for me to go.”

“It’s your boyfriend’s birthday—“

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Just keep telling yourself that.”

The huff that left Yuri was accentuated by the mist in front of his mouth. He glanced behind him to make sure he wasn’t going to skate into anyone before he narrowed his eyes at Phichit. “I haven’t even seen him since I met him. And no, the television appearances don’t count, you know what I meant.”

Phichit’s open mouth closed and he rolled his eyes. “Fine. Not that it matters because you talk to him everyday—“

“We’re good friends!”

“—and he’s all you talk about when you aren’t studying,” Phichit finished. The words caused Yuri’s cheeks to grow a bit rosier, and the slightly younger man smirked. “I’m surprised you two haven’t met up again, honestly.”

Yuri gave a shrug and wrapped an arm around his own waist. “It’s not for lack of trying,” he admitted. “We’ve both brought it up, but finding a time has been difficult. My work and school schedule doesn’t have many openings right now, but when I do, Vitya always says he has a family thing.”

“Family thing being code for?”

“Hell if I know.”

There was a sadness in Yuri’s tone, and his gaze drifted to his boots for a moment. His eyes tracked the scratches various blades had made in the ice before he looked up again, noticing Phichit’s frown.

“You’re going to have to say something, you know,” Phichit said. “I know you have a thing for him, but I hate seeing you hurting because he won’t let you in.”

“I’m fine with it.”

“Yuri…”

“I am! Mostly.” Yuri spun on his blades so he was beside Phichit again as they rounded a corner. “It...it does still bother me some, but I think...at some point he’ll say something. He drops all kinds of hints, but nothing more than that. Any time I’ve tried to take a bite at it though, he shuts it down. Maybe if I didn’t know, I wouldn’t notice.”

“Why don’t you just ask him outright?”

“Yes, the guy who gets a panic attack over asking a question in class should directly ask his new friend if he’s the ruler of the nation and risk being shut down and pushed out. I’ll put it on my to do list.”

“No need to be a smartass.”

“You walked into it.”

“Okay, fair.” Phichit slid over to the wall so he could adjust his beanie without risking skating into someone. Yuri stopped beside him, small shards of ice and snow spraying up as he braked. “Still. It’s not fair for you to feel like your holding onto some kind of secret. You’ve said it yourself, Vic—“

“ _ Vitya _ .”

“Right, sorry. Forgot you don’t use his name in public. Vitya seems like just a normal guy. So what if you know who he actually is? At this point, he has to know you suspect.”

“Maybe,” Yuri said. He bent over, using his glove to wipe some frost off one of his skates. “But I don’t feel like it’s my place to call him out. There’s a reason he hasn’t told me yet.”

“Don’t you think it’s kind of...I don’t, cruel maybe?”

Yuri hummed in thought and glanced up, eyes on the faint cloud cover that had occasionally been spitting snow flurries on them. “I don’t think he’s doing it to be mean,” he finally said. “I think he’s scared. Or he likes the anonymity. Maybe both.”

“Why would you-know-who be  _ scared _ ? He’s...you know!”

“Yeah, but if you met someone and liked them enough to be friends, but there was a part of you that you couldn’t share, wouldn’t it bother you to think about what would happen if they found out? You’d have no idea what they’d think or how they’d react.”

“Hmm...okay, I see what you mean.” Phichit grabbed Yuri’s hand and pulled him away from a wall. He skated backwards this time, but Yuri acted as a rudder because his best friend definitely wasn’t watching where he was going. “But that’s just all the more reason for you to go to the ball.”

“Phichit, that is not—“

“No, hear me out. If you go, not only will you see him in person again, but it’s a way for you to let him know that you know and it’s okay! Then you both can move forward, and I can stop watching you gaze longingly out the window like you're a character in one of Ciao Ciao’s soaps.”

“I don’t do that! And be glad Celestino didn’t hear that, you know he hates that nickname.”

Phichit waved his hand and let out a ‘meh’. “Point still stands,” he said. “You need to go.”

“Peach, I  _ can’t. _ ”

“Why not?”

“It’s in the middle of finals!”

“Your hardest ones will be done by then, and you know you’ll need a break around then or else you’ll have panic attacks.”

“I can break at home. Or out here.”

“Yuri.”

“I don’t want to go!”

“Liar.”

“It doesn’t matter because I’m  _ not going _ .”

“Why not?”

“Phichit, I swear—“

“Just humor me and answer the question.”

Yuri groaned and glared at Phichit and his little shit-eating grin. “That is not my crowd, and you know it.”

“And?”

“And that is no place for a broke, immigrant waiter and student.”

“But, Yuri, it’s an open event! It  _ is  _ a place for broke immigrants!” Phichit spoke with a sing-song tone that made Yuri want to grit his teeth. It was the tone Phichit got when he knew he was right and Yuri was being too stubborn to admit it.

“Open event or not, the chances of me getting close to Vitya are slim to none. And it’s not like I have anything appropriate to wear.”

“To wear to what?”

Yuri and Phichit both jumped, skates skittering around until they were both sitting on the ice, most likely with bruises. The pair looked up to see Seung-Gil and Kenjirou staring down at them. Swung-Gil looked bored as always, but his dark eyes held the slightest signs of amusement. Kenjirou was snickering, the strip of red in his fringe sticking out from under his hat.

“Sorry!” the other Saganese boy said, reaching down to offer his hands to the two on the ice. “I thought you heard us coming!”

“Surprisingly, no,” Yuri said. He dusted his backside off and stretched. “For as much energy as you put off, you move like a cat, Mini Me.”

Kenjirou grinned and laughed, rubbing the back of his head. There was a sense of giddy pride about him. “Believe it or not, my mom has said the same thing before!”

“We believe it,” Seung-Gil muttered, his voice quiet. Kenjirou took no notice of his roommate’s tone (or if he did he ignored it).

“Anyway, you have nothing to wear to what, Yuri?” Kenjirou asked.

“It’s nothing!” Yuri protested.

“The ball!” Phichit chirped, earning himself an elbow to the gut. “Oof!”

Kenjirou’s eyes lit up, becoming watery, and he spun around on his skates “You're going? That’s so cool, Yuri!”

“Hey, no, I’m not! What have I told you about listening to Phichit!”

“Uhh...something about lying and scheming?”

“Hey! I am not lying or scheming! You’re going to that party!”

“No I’m not!”

“ _ Yuri _ are you gonna get a picture of Victor? What if you get one  _ with him? _ ”

“Kenjirou, I just said I’m not going!”

“You obviously want to,” Seung-Gil said. “It wouldn’t be this much of an issue if that wasn’t true.”

“Thank you!” Phichit said, clapping Seung-Gil on the back. The stoic teen barely moved, shooting him a glance and a small ‘tch’, but nothing else.

“Why is everyone shouting?” Leo came cruising over, bumping into the wall with his hip to stop himself. Guang-Hong wasn’t far behind him. “I can hear the arguing from across the rink.”

“Yuri’s going to the prince’s ball!” Kenjirou squealed. The tiny eighteen-year-old practically bounced in his skates. “It’s so cool!”

“Huh? You’re actually going?” Guang-Hong asked. “Last time we talked about it, you weren’t sure at all.”

Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose. “Guys, I’m not going. Let it go.”

“But you were so excited about it the other day,” Leo said. “You acted like it was the greatest thing ever. You even said your boyfriend might be there.”

“Vitya is not my boyfriend!”

“Yes he is,” the rest of the group said, deadpan.

“Whatever, ugh. It still doesn’t change the fact that I can’t go.”

“Why?” Seung-Gil asked. “You’ve said before you don’t have a problem getting off work.”

“Well, that’s true, but it’ll be finals—“

“We were all planning a study break at some point that week anyway,” Guang-Hong offered. “This seems as good of an excuse as any.”

“I’m not in—“

“Yuri Katsuki, I swear if you say you aren’t invited one more time, I’m smothering you in your sleep.”

Yuri glared at Phichit, trying to resist the urge to wipe his best friend’s smirk off in a snow drift. “Okay, fine. You all make good points but I don’t have anything appropriate to wear,” he said crossing his arms.

“You have a suit though,” Leo said. “And it’s pretty nice.”

“It’s also cheap. I’d stick out like a sore thumb if I went in that,” Yuri said. “Besides, did any of you read the article? It’s a masquerade. Even if I could pull the suit off, I wouldn’t blend in because it’s not that kind of suit. Not to mention the lack of a mask. Trust me, I’ve thought about this. As nice as it sounds, I can’t go.”

Kenjirou cleared his throat and stood up as tall as he could, his tooth poking out over his bottom lip. He had a gleam in his eyes and his hands were on his hips. “Yuri, you make an excellent point, but you’ve forgotten one teeny tiny detail,” he said.

“And what’s that?”

“I’ve got an in with the fashion design students!”

Phichit’s eyes widened significantly. “Kenjirou, you’re a genius!”

“Thanks, I know!”

“I’m sorry, what does this have to do with anything?” Yuri asked, though he seemed to be the only one oblivious. Guang-Hong and Leo swapped some cash ( _ Did they seriously have a bet going on this???) _ , and Seung-Gil looked mildly impressed.

Kenjirou smirked proudly. “Well, Yuri, my esteemed mentor, this fixes  _ everything _ ,” he said. “My friend’s group has been  _ dying  _ to make a costume piece all semester. They’ve just been doing couture pieces lately and every study session we have together, they complain that they haven’t done anything fun. And they have to have projects turned in before the rest of us, so they have time on their hands that’s just  _ itching _ to be spent.”

Yuri’s heart skipped in his chest and then swelled with the hope that he’d felt when he read the headline the first time. “Could...could they actually pull something suitable off in time?” he asked.

“Yup! If they’re up to the challenge, I’d just need your measurements and a color palette. They’ll take care of the rest, and you’ll have the hottest costume there! Aside from the prince’s, maybe.”

All eyes turned to Yuri as he thought it over. This was a crack in the door that led to Victor. It could be his one shot. He could take the leap of faith, or keep playing it safe.

He gave a nod and grinned. He adjusted his glasses on his nose, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach that threatened to lift him off the ice.

“Okay. I’m going then.”

Kenjirou and Phichit both whooped in delight and tackled him to the ice, the three becoming a pile of laughter and skates.

“Guys, careful!

“Don’t hurt him!”

“You’re all idiots.”


	11. Chapter 11

“And I think you’ll both be pleased to hear that construction is nearing completion on the new children’s hospital.” Florian, the current head advisor, passed folders of documents across the table to Victor and Yakov to look over.

They’d taken over a smaller conference room to go over some weekly updates and issues that needed to be dealt with. It was a routine Victor hadn’t realized Yakov had established while he was gone...or had this gone on before and he just didn’t know?

Either way, it was a good idea, and one he intended to keep once he formally took the throne and Yakov stepped down.

“Any word on when it will open and patients will be moved?” he asked, eyes skimming the plans and details. He’d discovered the project during a talk with Yakov a few weeks ago, but hadn’t seen any of the plans. What he was reading showed promise. The layout and design was perfect for children and families. Long-term care was set up like small apartments, which was excellent. He’d never liked the idea of children being forcibly separated from their parents.

Personal experiences tend to dictate philosophy, after all. 

“We don’t have a hard date yet,” Florian explained. “But, the project is in the final phases. Most of the work to be finished is interior design and equipment installation. It should be finished within the first few months of the new year.”

“Excellent.” Victor closed the file and set it with the other documents he wanted to look more closely at later. “Keep me posted on the progress. I’d like to be there for the opening and to visit patients. I know I wasn’t here when the project was conceived, but it has been done in my family’s name, so I want to show my personal support.”

“Of course, your Highness.”

Victor smiled, consciously biting back his response. He hated when the advisors called him that. Most of them had known him since he was a child, and he would much prefer to be called by his name. But saying so in front of Yakov would result in a lecture on decorum, and he did not want to deal with that.

“Now, you also mentioned trade disputes with Florence?” he asked.

Florian gave a nod and shuffled through his papers. “There have been reports on both sides about shipments being late and goods being lost or tampered with. There’s also concern that exports meant to be exclusive to our kingdoms are being shared, but there is no solid evidence to that. We are not blaming them, and they are not blaming us, not yet at least. But the situation is becoming increasingly frustrating for all involved.”

Victor tapped his chin with his finger briefly, then glanced towards Yakov. “An invitation was sent to the Crispinos for the ball, yes?”

The regent let out a grunt and nodded. “Yes, and they were one of the first of the foreign dignitaries to accept,” he said.

“Not a surprise, Sara always has liked a good party,” Victor said with a chuckle. “I’d like to discuss this with them in person during their stay here. Either the day before or the day after the ball, whichever is convenient for them and their travel plans. The sooner we can get this settled, the better.”

“I’ll send the request,” Yakov said.

Victor nodded and looked back towards Florian. “Can you gather what information you can from the shipping contracts? If there are issues regarding them, I want them found and settled.”

“Of course, your Highness.”

“Are there any other orders of business that need to be dealt with?”

“No, your Highness.”

“Yakov?”

“Nothing from me,” the regent said. “I think we can call this meeting finished.”

The three men stood and Victor offered Florian his hand. “Thank you for your hard work,” he said. “It’s greatly appreciated.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

The group exited the room, Florian heading down the hall in one direction while Victor and Yakov headed in the direction of their offices.

“I have to say, you’re impressing me, Vitya,” Yakov said.

“Hm? How so?”

“You’ve started taking charge of these meetings. And you’re becoming more invested in the topics, even if it is just to learn about the issues. Two weeks ago I thought I’d be pulling teeth to get you this interested, or that I’d have to lead things for a while. But you’re taking the reins with force.”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Well, this is my job. Or it will be in a month,” he said. “I need to be prepared for it all to be on me.”

“Stubborn boy, it’s not all going to be on you,” Yakov grumbled. “That’s what your advisors and court are for.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Yes.” They paused outside of Victor's office. Yakov straightened his hat and huffed softly. “I just wasn’t expecting the initiative until closer to your coronation. I figured you’d want to enjoy your freedom for a while longer.”

“Who says I can’t do both?” Victor teased. His eyes drifted up to the high ceilings with a small smile.

“Let’s just say I’ve had something of an epiphany lately,” he added. “Everything has been dictated to me for so long. My time in Salchow let me feel what it was like to control my own life in some ways. I need that control here. Starting to step into my role as king now, even unofficially, is the first thing I need to do to accomplish that.”

Yakov studied him closely for a minute. The intense gaze made Victor bite on his bottom lip, and he could feel a nervous sweat bearing in the back of his neck.

_Crap, too much? Does he not think I’m ready?_

The Yakov smiled and reached out to squeeze Victor’s shoulder. “You’re going to be a good king, Vitya,” he said. “I hope one of the best Rostelecom has seen. I’m proud of the man you’ve become. Artur and Natalia would be, too.”

The prince’s eyes had grown wide from the sudden praise, but the mention of his parents made them well with tears. That’s all he ever wanted; to make his parents' memories proud. He leaned down so he could give Yakov a hug, not really caring that the other wasn’t big into physical affection. Yakov didn’t seem to mind, though, his arms wrapping around his godson for a moment.

“I wish they were here,” Victor breathed, trying to hold himself together.

“I do, too, Vitya. I do, too.”

They pulled apart after a moment and Yakov gave Victor’s arm a parting pat as he walked away. Victor slipped into his office and closed the door behind him. He slumped against the solid oak and pinched the bridge of his nose. His chest was burning and he grit his teeth to keep the tears that hadn’t fallen down his cheeks back. He hadn’t cried over his parents in years, and he didn’t want to now, but it was coming.

He pressed his fist against his mouth and choked against a soft sob. Tears flowed hot and free down his cheeks. A few years ago, he would have hid them by pulling his hair over his face. He would have dealt with the pain by tugging at the long strands until his scalp hurt. He’d almost forgotten how much of a security blanket his long hair had been. Now, he only had his fringe to cover his left eye, the right one exposed to reveal all of his emotions.

His back slid down the wood until he was seated on the floor. His suit would probably get a little ruffled, but he didn’t care. He pulled his knees up to his chest so he could cry into them. He hadn’t realized the loss could still hurt this much after 12 years. But the pain always surprised him. It snuck up on him when he least expected it, and all he could do was sit and wait for it to pass.

When it did, Victor forced himself up from the ground and dusted his pants off. He picked up his papers and set them on his desk, taking a moment to blow his nose and dry his eyes before sitting down. With a deep breath to ground himself, he picked up one of the folders to start going through it, notepad ready for anything he wanted to write to remember later.

It didn’t take long for his mind to move from grief to politics and infrastructure. He noted that some of the outlying communities were being neglected in certain areas. Many of them hadn’t had improved or new school buildings for years, and that wouldn’t do. He made a note to make that one of his projects after his coronation.

He worked for a solid hour before his cell phone buzzed, facedown on the desk where he’d left it before the meeting with Yakov and Florian. His teeth sank into his lip as he checked the time.

_I’ve been going hard, and the only pressing issue is the trade dispute. I can’t do anything with that until I have the extra information. I guess it can’t hurt checking one message…_

Victor picked his phone up, nearly melting into a royal puddle when he saw it was from Yuri. He cherished every message he sent, every conversation they had. He hadn’t expected to hear from him yet today; Monday’s were his busiest class day after all. He swiped the message open to read it, only for his smile to fall into a worried frown and a lead weight to sink in his gut.

_Yuri ~ <3~: _

_ >> So… _

_ >> You going to that ball thing on Friday? _

Victor’s fingers pressed against his temple as he read the message over and over again. This was bad. This was good. This was...bad and good?

_What do I even say? If I say yes, he may ask why. What if I say yes and he wants to come with me? I still can’t decide how or when to tell him who I am! I don’t know if I’m ready for him to know…_

With a soft sigh, Victor sent back the only reply he could think of.

_Victor:_

_ >> Don’t know yet _

_ >> I have some friends coming in from out of town this weekend, so I’ll leave it up to them _

_ >> Wby? _

He leaned back in his chair and ran his hand down his face. What had he gotten himself into? Part of him thought he should’ve told Yuri from the beginning. But, Yuri had met _Vitya_ . Yuri liked _Vitya_ . What if he didn’t like _Victor_? What if Mila was right?

 _No,_ he scolded himself. _Yuri has never indicated that he cares about status or wealth to me. I think I’m a good enough judge of character to have figured out if that’s all he wanted by now._

Victor’s eyes stared out the window of his office. He had a view of the city from here, which was still covered in the weekend’s snow. Rostelecom was gorgeous during a snow, especially the first.

_He’s down there somewhere. If I just went into town for an hour, I could see him. He’s so close, but I feel so far away from him. I want him close to me. This isn’t fair._

The incoming message buzz startled him out of his thoughts, and he opened it with a swallow that made his Adam’s Apple bob.

_Yuri ~ <3~: _

_ >> Don’t know. Maybe. _

_ >> Finals start Wednesday, so I may be too exhausted haha _

It took all of Victor’s strength not to immediately offer for Yuri to go with him. That they’d have a good time together.

_This isn’t fair._

The phone on his desk beeped with an intercom message, causing Victor to jump. His knee collided with the underside of his desk and he swore. That was going to bruise later. He reached out and hit the button.

“Yes?”

“You have a visitor in the Beta Lounge, your Highness.”

“I’ll be right down.”

The unknown visitor was a welcome relief. While he didn’t exactly want to talk business right now (and he hoped this wasn’t the case), he didn’t know how to respond to Yuri either. At the very least, this was an excuse not to have to think about it anymore. For the moment. So, Victor took a deep breath and pocketed his phone so he could meet his guest.

The walk down the hall was short, the Beta Lounge just a few doors down. It was a small room, only holding a few chairs and a fireplace. Victor remembered sneaking into it when he was a boy when King Artur hosted some of his closest friends in the court. He also snuck into the Alpha Lounge on the opposite end of the floor too, but he got grounded for that one. Beta was for intimate affairs, Alpha was strictly business with less trusted allies.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting,” he said as he walked into the room. He glanced behind him into the hall to double check that he wasn’t needed or expecting anyone else before closing the door.

“It’s alright. I’m used to you coming late.”

Victor’s eyes lit up and he whirled around. His heart-shaped smile spread wide across his face when he caught sight of messy blonde hair and green eyes hidden behind thin-framed round glasses.

“Chris!”

The other prince chuckled softly. “In the flesh.”

They met each other halfway across the room for a hug and greetings of kisses to both cheeks. It hadn’t been more than two months since they’d last seen each other, but for Victor, it felt like an eternity.

“What are you doing here?” he asked when they parted. “I wasn’t expecting you to get here until Wednesday at the earliest.”

Chris shrugged, tucking his hands into the pockets of his cardigan. “I managed to pull a few strings to catch an earlier plane. Though I was a bit worried I’d be delayed. You all had one hell of a snow storm over the weekend.”

“Eh, it wasn’t _that_ bad. Not for us.”

“Right. I forget that anything less than five feet is child’s play for Rostelecom.”

“Shut up, it is not. Five feet is still child’s play. You underestimate us.”

Chris laughed and shook his head. “You are a different breed, Nikiforov. Always have been.”

“A fact I am very proud of,” Victor said. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room and call for some drinks. My schedule is clear for the rest of the day, so I’m all yours.”

“Hm, my favorite words ever. Well, second.”

“The first being?”

“‘Come back to my place’ or ‘take me home’ or any variation thereof.”

“Do you ever stop thinking about sex?”

“Only when I’m having it.”

“Gross, Chris. Just gross.”

*******

“That GG guy still being annoying?”

“JJ. But yes. He’s gotten worse, if you ask me. Seems either people love him or hate him,” Chris said. Green eyes scanned the cards in his hand before he plucked one out and played it. “Draw four.”

Victor scowled at him over his own cards. “You have ten cards, there’s no way.”

“Is that a challenge I hear?”

“Yes!”

Chris smirked and tuned his cards around. “Oh, sorry, no blue. That’s six.”

Victor grumbled but drew the cards from the Uno deck sitting on the floor between them. He’d changed into loose jeans and a white and blue striped shirt once they’d come up to their rooms. They’d been sitting on the floor of his sitting room for the last hour, drinking beer and playing games. Makkachin currently had his head draped in Chris’s lap; it appeared he had missed him too.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

Chris played his next card and Victor eyed the options in his hand. “How is he worse?”

“Well for starters, he started dating Isabella Yang—“

“That prick landed _her_?”

“I’m as confused as you are,” Chris said. “But somehow, yes. And in doing so, he’s become extra annoying. If he didn’t think he was hot shit before, he definitely does now.”

“I swear he has a bigger ego than I do.”

“And that’s saying something.”

“Oi, watch it. Draw two.”

Chris shrugged and picked up his cards. “It’s all in love, my friend. Speaking of…” He peeked up over his cards and waggled his eyebrows.

“Do you _have_ to start into that right now?”

“I gave you three hours without questions. I think I was rather patient.”

Victor rolled his eyes as he played his next card. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but not much has changed since we last talked about it,” he said. “Our relationship is still entirely text based, with the occasional Snapchat or picture text. And it’s all been tame, so don’t get any ideas about going through my phone for nudes.”

“Victor, I would never. I only look for your nudes.”

“Because you couldn’t just ask.”

“You give in too easy. It’s not a challenge.”

“Can’t say there’s a challenge to be had since we’ve seen each other naked how many times?”

“Too many to count. But that’s not the point.” Chris played his next card, watching Victor as he lifted his bottle up for a drink more than the deck. “Is he coming on Friday?”

Victor nearly choked and spluttered, pounding his chest with his fist until he could breathe without coughing. “I don’t know,” he finally said.

“How do you not know? Have you not talked about it?”

“We talked about it! His answer was a maybe, but it seemed like it was leaning towards no.”

“Your boy toy is going to miss your party? How sad.”

“We are not—“

“Just keep telling yourself that.”

Victor huffed, blowing a strand of his fringe up and away from his face. “Whatever. But it’s Yuri’s choice, and it’s not like he’s intentionally avoiding my birthday. This may not be his type of thing.”

Blue eyes scanned the cards in his hand before he drew. When he looked back up, Chris was staring at him like he did whenever Victor declined going out on a school night; unamused and highly judgemental. “What?”

“Are you serious?”

“ _What_?”

“You didn’t invite him?”

“It’s an open event, I don’t have to, technically.”

“Except you have never not invited someone you consider close to anything you host before.”

“Maybe I don’t want to infringe on his Friday night. He is in finals you know.”

“Or maybe you still haven’t told him who you are yet. Which is quite the pity, really.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed and he folded his arms. “Meaning?”

Chris sighed and sat his cards down, rubbing the top of Makkachin’s head. “Victor, I say this with love, but you need to stop dancing around him or you’ll lose him before you have him.”

“I’m not dancing around him,” Victor argued. “I talk to him every day. We talk about life and his school and our families. He has a poodle too, you know, back home.”

“That’s nice. But how much of _your_ life does he know?”

“Enough.”

“Meaning you’ve shied away from anything hitting remotely close to home.”

Victor turned his head away, making sure his fringe covered his eye, and didn’t answer. He knew Chris was right, but he didn’t have to admit it.

“Victor…”

“You’re just grumpy because you don’t get to meet him,” the silver prince grumbled.

“Hm, I won’t lie, I am disappointed that I can’t see the Saganese devil that has stolen your heart for myself,” Chris said. “But Vic...you can’t keep dragging this out. Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“I’m just taking it slow,” Victor said. “I’ll tell him after his exams are done.”

“Which will become after the new year, and then after the coronation, and then after things settle down.”

“That is not—“

“It is and you know it.”

A silence settled between them. Victor stared down at the cards in his hands. Chris was right. Chris had a knack for being right about a lot of things. And along with that came the habit of knocking Victor back down to reality. It wasn’t a bad thing.

He heard Chris sigh, followed by the shuffling of fabric and the jingle of Makkachin’s collar, and then Chris was beside him. His arm draped over Victor’s shoulders and squeezed.

“You’re hurting yourself, Vic,” he said softly.

“I’m _protecting_ myself,” Victor argued. “I’m protecting _him.”_

“From what?”

“I don’t know. Something. I just...telling him who I am is a bad idea right now.”

“And sitting here trying to avoid the topic every time you talk to him isn’t?”

Victor shook his head and pushed his fingers back through his hair. “I have to do this on my terms, Chris,” he said. “Things were decided for me for too long. I have to control when he finds out. I need that.”

“I’m not saying you don’t.” Chris gently nudged Victor until the older prince looked at him. The pain and longing was plain in his blue eyes, even if he masked it with irritation. “But...Victor I haven’t heard you talk about someone like you talk about him... _ever_ . He makes you _happy_. I can see it. And I know you care about him. This Yuri guy is the best thing that’s happened to you.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“You need to hear it anyway. Victor, you have to do something. I can’t sit here and watch you throw whatever this is away because of fear. You deserve better than that.”

They studied each other for a minute. Victor tried to find any way Chris would let this go, any way for him to get him to back off, any way he could convince him (and himself) that Yuri was better off not knowing.

But he couldn’t. He knew Chris was right (an annoying tendency he had). He had to tell him.

“Fine,” he conceded. Chris’s eyes grew wide and a grin started spreading over his face. “But after the ball. He’s stressed, I’m stressed, and I’m not going to be a jerk and spring this on him with this giant party he probably isn’t comfortable coming too.”

“Promise?”

“One hundred percent.”

Chris smirked and lifted his right hand, pinky extended. Victor deadpanned him and rolled his eyes, but lifted his own hand to hook his pinky around his best friend’s. Might as well indulge a little.

Seemingly satisfied (for now, at least), Chris scooted back to his spot and picked his cards up. “Now, where were we?”

“I was kicking your ass.”

“Oh were you?” He placed another Draw Four on the pile with a wicked grin.

“No! Liar! Challenge!”

“Sorry, you lose. Again.”

“You little fucker—“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment to think everyone again for the support on this! Your kudos and comments make my day when I see them! This little AU is so enjoyable for me to write, and I’m glad to see so many people enjoying it too!


	12. Chapter 12

Finals week came and hit the entire third floor of the boarding house like a train. The bin in Yuri and Phichit’s room was overflowing with discarded versions of Phichit’s final speech for his third level public speaking course. He claimed he was “living in a communication major’s nightmare”, even though everyone told him his drafts were fine. Yuri himself had dissolved into full mental breakdowns, crying and all, three times. Leo was scrambling with his essays (“the curtains are blue because they’re  _ blue _ !!”) and Guang-Hong had resolved to become a blanket hermit to keep the stress from getting to him. Seung-Gil didn’t appear stressed, but the frequent trips he made from his and Kenjirou’s room to the coffee pot in the common area said otherwise. Even Kenjirou, the tiny little theater major, was nervous, struggling to remember his monologues and stage directions.

By Thursday, the plight of the living dead had become so bad that Celestino had fixed them a large Florentine dinner.

“You all need to eat something substantial,” he’d said. “You can’t survive on energy bars and coffee alone.”

It had been the best meal they’d all had in what felt like years, and they had collapsed in bed shortly after with full bellies and relaxed minds.

Friday morning came...and went. For Yuri at least. Four exams in two days had left him exhausted, so he hadn’t bothered to set an alarm. His friends had taken blissful mercy on him and let him sleep as late as his body would let him. It was 2 in the afternoon before he finally rolled out of bed and shuffled into the common area in his pajama pants and a sweatshirt.

“Mornin’,” he yawned at Phichit, who was sitting at the counter in the kitchen on a barstool. He had a textbook open and notes out, tapping his temple with the end of his pen.

“I think you mean afternoon.”

“That late?”

“Yup.”

“Huh.” Yuri slipped a pod of coffee into the Keurig on the counter and put his favorite blue mug under the spout. While he waited on the brew to start, he pulled down a bowl to fix himself some cereal. “How’d the speech go this morning?”

“Better than I thought it would,” Phichit said. “I’m not sure I’d call it ‘A’ worthy, but I at least passed.”

“Told you you would.”

“Yeah yeah.” The 19-year-old flipped a page in his book, scratching something down in his notes. “Have you heard anything on the ones you’ve taken?”

“Not yet, but I’m not surprised. My professors for the ones I took on Wednesday are notorious for being slow at grading.”

“Gotta hate that.”

“No kidding.”

They fell silent other than the sound of Phichit’s pen scratching and Yuri’s crunching as he leaned against the counter and ate his cereal. He probably could have taken it back to their room or at least sat down, but he was used to scarfing his food down in the kitchen before being called off somewhere. Problems of working in the service industry all his life. At least he’d taught himself to slow down and not inhale his food anymore. Usually.

“How are you feeling about tonight?” Phichit asked, not even looking up from his book.

Yuri blinked at him, spoon sticking out of his mouth, and tilted his head back against the cabinet. He actually hadn’t been thinking about it at all. Whether that was a good sign or not was yet to be determined.

“Nervous,” he finally said, causing Phichit to actually look up. His best friend’s dark, grey eyes stared right through him. “What?”

“Yu, no offense, but nervous basically defines your entire existence,” Phichit said. “I’ve seen you have nerves over practically everything in the five years I’ve known you. Nervous is your natural state.”

“I...no it’s...shut up.”

Though, he wasn’t wrong, and Yuri knew that. His anxiety made some days a train wreck for him. He could see where “nervous” was a poor word choice. He was still barely awake, it made words hard.

“I mean nervous in not my normal way,” he said. He picked up his coffee mug and sipped at the hot liquid. “If that makes sense.”

“Kind of, yeah.” Phichit closed his textbook and pushed it aside. He even patted the counter beside him as an invitation, which Yuri gladly took by hopping up and letting his legs dangle by the cabinets. “But I am a little surprised. I was kind of expecting you to panic and want to back out.”

“Don’t count it out, it could still happen. I feel...eerily calm right now.” Yuri tilted his head back and closed his eyes, holding his mug in both hands so the warmth could seep into his skin. “I can’t explain why. I’m actually really looking forward to it. I definitely am nervous about being there, seeing Victor again and knowing that he’s  _ Victor _ , knowing what I want to do. But I can’t help but be a little excited. I think right now I’m more worried about my outfit not being here in time.”

Phichit reached up and patted Yuri’s leg. “If Kenjirou didn’t think he’s friends could pull it off, he wouldn’t have offered.”

“Well, he overestimates some—“

“Nope!” Yuri blinked as Phichit’s finger rested on his lips. “Don’t say another word, you will jinx this.”

“Sorry.”

Phichit waited a minute to make sure Yuri wasn’t going to do what he’d just been told not to, and pulled his hand away.

“So, where is Kenjirou anyway?” he asked, changing the subject so he wouldn’t risk speaking truth to negative vibes. “Actually, where’s everyone? It’s too quiet.”

“Your mini me had a practical this afternoon,” Phichit said. “He left about half an hour ago. Seung-Gil should be back soon, he had some math exam this morning.”

“Gross.”

“Right? I think Leo is still asleep.”

“He’s pulled three all-nighters in a row. I don’t blame him.”

“And Guang-Hong was meeting up with his project group to study for a while. I think we’re all about broken.”

“I was broken Wednesday, what are you talking about?”

“I told you to get one of your exams moved, but you didn’t listen.”

“If I moved one, I wouldn’t have had a break at all,” Yuri pointed out. “I’m not sure my mental state could have handled that.”

“Good point.” Phichit lifted his textbook, and then let out a long sigh. “Hey, wanna help a bro out and call out some terms for me? This subject is trying to put me six feet under.”

“Which one is this?”

“Political Reporting.”

“Ew. Yeah, hand me your book.”

For the next few hours, the pair ended up holed up on the couch in the common area. They noticed Leo crawl out of his room at some point, snickering at the way he was behaving like a blanket slug as he quite literally slithered his way into the kitchen, grabbed a pack of toaster pastries, and inch-wormed his way back to his room. They missed Seung-Gil coming up, but by the way the bedroom door slammed, they assumed he was back and the exam had committed a murder. When Guang-Hong snuck in, he wriggled his way in between Phichit and Yuri and eagerly helped in the relentless quizzing.

By six o’ clock, the only one still missing was Kenjirou, and Yuri was nervously biting his fingers instead of eating his leftover ramen that sat untouched on the counter in front of him. The hand that wasn’t near his mouth was tapping his chopsticks rapidly on the countertop. He stared off into space, and only came back to reality when he felt a hand on his, stopping the tapping. He glanced over, expecting Phichit, but seeing Seung-Gil instead.

“Hey.”

“You need to relax,” Seung-Gil said. “He’s never failed to come through before. He won’t this time, either.”

“I...I know. I just...can’t help it.”

Seung-Gil studied him for a moment, and Yuri couldn’t figure out why or if it should worry him. But then, he pulled out his phone and passed it to Yuri. On the screen was a picture of a gorgeous, white Siberian Husky. Yuri’s eyes lit up and he tried (and failed) not to coo.

“Her name is La-Ming,” Seung-Gil said, smiling just a little. “She responds to LaLa though.”

“She’s adorable!” Yuri grinned as he passed the phone back to Seung-Gil, who started pulling up more pictures. “How old is she?”

“Three. Almost four, actually.”

“She looks like she’s full of energy!”

“Hm. She’s actually more of a lap dog.”

“Big dogs always think they are,” Yuri said, to which Seung-Gil nodded in agreement. “Hey, you wanna see some photos of my Vicchan?”

“Sure.”

Yuri pulled his phone out and opened his folder of his pictures of his poodle. They swiped through pictures, commenting both on each other’s pets, but also on how much they missed their furry best friends. They were swapping puppy stories when the sound of sprinting feet could be heard from the stairs.

“ _ YURIIIIIII!” _

Yuri and Seung-Gil both turned to see Kenjirou hit the top of the stairs, red-faced and panting hard. He was still bundled up in his winter outerwear, his red strip of hair poking out from his beanie. Before either of them could ask what was going on, he swung the garment bag from his shoulder and grinned.

“They finished it!”

*******

“Chin up, Yuri. I can’t see to do the contour,” Kenjirou said, forcibly tilting Yuri’s head back with one hand while the other swiped the makeup brush over the skin under his jaw. His tongue poked out of the side of his mouth in concentration. Phichit sat beside him, holding open some pallet Kenjirou had in his actor’s aresenal.

“Is this really necessary?” Yuri asked.

“ _ Yes _ ,” came the response as a chorus from the five people in the room that weren’t him. He let out a disgruntled noise, but didn’t push it further. He had a feeling his friends were more excited about playing dress up on him than he was about going to the ball to begin with.

“Hey, Leo, he’s got a loose hair,” Guang-Hong pointed out.

“Where?”

“Left side. Near his temple.”

Yuri felt the push and scratch of a comb in that area, and then a tug as the offending hair was pulled back into the rest of the gelled back, “it’s messy but it’s supposed to be” look Leo had been creating.

“Perfect!”

“You guys are making me feel like a show pony, you know that?” Yuri asked. “The last time someone styled my hair and put makeup on me was for the last dance recital I did when I was ten.”

“Don’t think of it as being a show pony,” Phichit said. “Think of it as looking your best so you can capture the attention of the most eligible man in the room. Like...like a peacock!”

“You do realize the actual peacock of the ball is the one I’m after, right?”

“Yeah, well, peacocks try to seduce peacocks. Just go with it.”

Yuri rolled his eyes before closing them as he felt Kenjirou move up to lay on a layer of neutral eyeshadow on his lids and a thin swipe of eyeliner.

“Annnnnd we’re done!” Kenjirou said. “Thanks for being my assistant Phichit!”

“Any time, little dude.”

Leo nudged Yuri’s shoulder to get him to stand, and motioned for Seung-Gil to come over with his suit jacket. He held it up and Yuri slipped his arms inside the sleeves while Guang-Hong fastened the two buttons that sat near his navel; Seung-Gil fluffed out his coat tails and smoothed out the wrinkles on the back. Leo passed him a pair of black gloves, and Yuri slipped them on, wriggling his fingers to get them on all the way.

“Okay, can I actually look at myself now?” Yuri asked. Ever since Kenjirou got back and they started working on putting Yuri together, he hadn’t been allowed to see his outfit and all he knew was it was black.

“Right this way, my liege,” Phichit said, extending his arm to the full length mirror Kenjirou had hanging on the inside of his closet door. Leo gave Yuri a gentle shove, and the Saganese man stepped forward to check out what his friends had put together. 

“How in—“ The reflection made his jaw drop. “Are you guys sure that’s me?”

The only response was silent nods, no one wanting to ruin his moment. The costume suit was absolutely stunning. Black pants clung to his thighs, and the slight heel on his dress shoes helped to make his legs look longer. His shirt was a deep, rich red, the material just sheer enough to be proper and elegant, but still noticeable. But the  _ jacket _ . The black material hung over his frame, fitting him perfectly. He’d never had such a well fitting suit before. The material shimmered with every movement, and rhinestones glittered on his right shoulder and down around his waist and hips. The coat tails hung to his knees, the inner material the same red as his shirt. Yuri spun once and watched as the tails lifted, fluttering almost like wings as they settled back against his legs.

His slicked back hair was, to his surprise, actually a good look. Maybe he should wear it back more often. He was also pretty amazed that Kenjirou had somehow managed to make his jaw look sharper, his face slimmer. Without his glasses, he was almost unrecognizable.

He kind of liked it.

“So, is it good?” Kenjirou asked, the floor creaking as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

“It’s perfect,” Yuri said. “But it’s missing something.”

“It is?”

Yuri nodded and turned to Phichit. “Peach, can you get the black box from the drawer of my nightstand?”

“On it!”

Phichit was out the door in a flash, and back just as fast. He passed the box to Yuri who opened it with a soft smile.

“Care to enlighten us as to what that’s about?” Seung-Gil asked.

“It’s a gift from my parents,” Yuri said, pulling a gold watch out of the case. Stones shimmered around the black face, delicate images carved into the band. He slipped it onto his left wrist and clasped it closed. “It’s a Sagan tradition to give a golden gift on someone’s eighteenth birthday. It’s meant to be a sign of fortune and good luck for your adulthood.”

Kenjirou nodded and tugged a chain out from under his shirt, a gold pendant spelling out his name in their language hanging from it. “This is mine. I never take it off so I don’t lose it.”

“Which is why I don’t wear this,” Yuri explained. “But...it feels right tonight.”

Phichit gave a nod and placed a hand on Yuri’s back. “It is. You ready? I’ve got your coat by the door—“

“Hold on!” Leo said. “Your mask!”

“Oh! Right, thanks!”

Yuri took his mask and slipped it on, the black material settling in the upper part of his face easily. Red filigree covered the edges and the ridge of the nose to compliment the rest of the outfit. “Now I’m ready.”

The gang moved down the hall and watched as Yuri slipped on his black pea-coat. He took a deep breath and waved at his friends before stepping down the stairs and out into the winter cold. Hunching his shoulders, he walked briskly to the trolley stop that was taking the public to the palace and he was very glad it was nearby (and that it was offered at all). The night wind had a bite that cut through his layers and sent chills down his spine. The cold was probably the one thing he had never gotten used to in Rostelecom.

He joined the small group waiting on the trolley; two women in matching silver and gold ball gowns (sisters possibly?) and another man with a blue mask decorated with snowflakes. Yuri had to wonder how many people would be sporting similar masks or embellishments. He wondered if Victor would embrace it or if he went with something different. Either way, he’d be the one to do it best.

The trolley pulled up, and the four stepped into the open air vehicle. The air from outside was cold, but the seats were heated and warm air was pumped through vents along the base of the walls. Yuri took a seat on the right hand side while the trio took seats on the left, chatting amongst themselves. It made him feel out of place, alone. He couldn’t decide if he liked that or not. Would he be the only commoner to arrive alone? The thought made his stomach twist up in knots and his chest grow tight, and he had to look out at the city passing them by to calm himself.

Yuri had lived in Rostelecom since he was fourteen, but he had never seen the city at night. No, he had, but not from a moving trolley. He had always walked most places, and it wasn’t like he lived in a bad area. Far from it, actually. The only time he’d ever taken a trolley was when he moved from his private intermediate school to the university and he needed to learn the path. But now, watching the lights and buildings speed past, it was like he was seeing the city anew. The lights seemed brighter, warmer. The remnants of the snowfall glistened on awnings and the sidewalks. There was a life to the streets that he hadn’t noticed before. Even the air felt lighter. Was it always like this? Was it because of Victor’s birthday?

Or was it different because  _ he _ felt different?

He didn’t have time to dwell on it. The trolley soon crossed the bridge to the palace and all of Yuri’s attention was pulled towards it. It stood tall and strong, lit by spotlights that reflected off the white stone. The gates opened up into a wide circle path, surrounded by immaculate trees and hedges. The entrance stairs were flooded with warm light from inside the open doors. Yuri could see the balcony from Victor’s return several floors above the entrance. It took all his strength to keep his jaw off the floor.

_ I never thought I’d see this place in person. _

The trolley stopped by the stairs, and Yuri followed the trio of companions off. They were laughing together, relaxed. Meanwhile, he was amazed he was upright. His nerves were on edge, but he was excited too. His legs felt like they were shaking, but he walked up the stairs steadily. His heart pounded, but there was a small smile on his face.

He was going to see Victor face to face again. He was going to see his smile and hear his laugh and  _ talk _ to him again. Would Victor recognize him? Would he be excited to see him again, too?

A doorman took his coat from him, and Yuri was guided to a set of doors on the far end of the large (too large, even) entrance hall. The two women and the man he rode with were let nside, the sound of laughter and music and conversation drifting out before the doors closed again. He was stopped before he could enter, and a man dressed in a plain, icy blue suit stepped up to him.

“By what name should we introduce you as?” he asked, and a lump formed in Yuri’s throat.

_ Crap! I can’t give him my name! I don’t want Victor to know I’m here yet! _

He was frozen. He didn’t know what to say, he hadn’t planned for this at all. But the man was waiting, he had to answer. So he spat out the first thing that came to mind.

“Eros.”

“And where are you from?”

“Hasetsu,” he said without missing a beat, though he wanted to mentally kick himself. He should have said Rostelecom. The only thing that stopped a panic attack was the fact that he hadn’t told Victor the name of his home town.

The man nodded, and two similarly dressed doormen opened the double doors. Yuri stepped into the warm light of the ballroom. String music surrounded him, as did the clinking of glasses and the sound of voices rising and falling in conversation. Down near the front, he could see the shine of Victor’s silver hair and his heart skipped a beat.

“Presenting, Sir Eros, of Hasetsu,” a voice called from beside him, startling him briefly, before the doors shut behind him. Heads turned towards him, including Victor’s, and he swallowed hard before starting down the stairs into the room.

_ Here goes nothing. _


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the break between updates! December is a crazy time for us, so my writing projects got pushed aside.
> 
> I hope everyone had a good holiday season and a happy new year!
> 
> Cheers to 2021!

“Why do I have to go to this stupid party? I’d rather do anything that isn’t this shit!”

“Because Yakov said—“

“Yakov isn’t my dad!”

Victor glanced away from the mirror where he was styling his hair over to where Yura was standing, messing with his tie. The teen’s face was twisted up in a glare and he was tugging furiously at his tie or the pink and red fluffs on the ends of his sleeves, all while blowing strands of hair out of his face. With a small sigh, Victor left his own mirror and gently batted Yura’s hands away so he could fix the tie for him.

“He’s not your dad, but he does look out for you,” Victor said. “Just like he has me. We owe him thanks enough for that.”

Yura’s glare softened, just a tad, and he turned emerald eyes away. “Do I have to thank him by going to your stupid party? It’s just going to be a bunch of nobles sipping champagne and acting like they like each other. Watching paint dry would be less boring.”

“You could always hang out with me and Chris.”

“Don’t make me puke. I’ll find ways to annoy Baba Yaga instead.”

Victor laughed and finished with Yura’s tie. He looked his young squire over, adjusting a few hairs for him before he was smacked off. “Does it make you feel better if I tell you I don’t really want to go either?”

“No.” Yura studied him for a minute and smirked. “But maybe I can enjoy watching you be just as miserable.”

“Good luck with that.”

Yura stuck his tongue out at Victor before leaving the room. He even flipped him off for good measure on the way, red and pink fluff and feathers on his coat tails and winding up his calves making it a slightly less rude gesture. But only slightly.

Still, Victor was amused and his spirits were high as he went back to getting himself ready. Which was saying something since he felt like that’s all he’d been doing all day and he was mentally exhausted. For some reason, he thought birthdays were supposed to be fun and relaxing and  _ not  _ full of stress and thinking.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t heard from his Yuri all day.

He was trying not to worry, he really was. He’d been laying off the messages so Yuri could study. But it wasn’t like Yuri to not say anything at all. They talked every day, at least a little. So, 24 hours since Yuri’s “pasta coma” message and no response to Victor’s good morning text at all was a little concerning. The only thing keeping him from calling Yuri was reminding himself that it was finals and he was probably studying and everything was fine.

_ Or he’s coming tonight and I’ll see him and that’s why he hasn’t texted because we’ll talk in person. _

Victor shook the thought off immediately. He didn’t want to get his hopes up that Yuri would be there. Yuri had never said if he was coming or not. And if he was, he didn’t know who Victor was. Besides, Victor had never given a straight answer either, so it wasn’t like Yuri knew to expect him.

_ Unless… _

No. He was not going to let himself fantasize. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to have this ball, but it was happening and he was going to enjoy himself. There was no room for the disappointment of a failed fantasy to ruin this. He was going to go and have a good time with his family and his best friend and his friends and associates from abroad and try to not get annoyed by drunk nobles.

“Vitya.”

The prince jumped and looked over to where Yakov was standing in the door. The gruff man was dressed in a simple suit; nothing near as extravagant as what everyone else would be wearing. Though, Victor was pretty sure Yakov was only making an appearance because Lilia was forcing him. That, and his duties as regent probably dictated he go. Maybe. Victor wasn’t really sure.

“Everyone is waiting on you,” Yakov said. Victor huffed and went back to styling his hair.

“Give me ten minutes.”

“Five minutes. And then I’m dragging you down there. You’re pushing the limits of fashionably late.”

“Fine. Five minutes.”

Yakov wandered off and Victor huffed. It was time to face the inevitable. He just needed to treat this like a normal party. If he did, he’d have fun and enjoy himself. Hopefully the band would play good music and not just ballroom ensembles the whole time. 

He grabbed his golden mask and settled it on his face, making sure his fringe fell just the right way and didn’t completely cover his eye like it normally did. He made sure his pink and magenta coat was smooth and the gold bands over his torso and the golden shoulder details were straight. He tugged on his matching fingerless gloves before spinning around to get a good look at the full ensemble.

Perfect.

With a flick of his coat tails, he left the room and headed down towards the ballroom. The halls were empty along the way, the staff being all either in or near the ballroom or the kitchens. Or in the servant passages where they could move freely without disturbing the guests. The guests themselves were being filtered in through the main entrance in the foyer. Victor’s entrance would be made on the opposite side of the room, the doors at the top of the highest staircase that descended down to a balcony and then split in two, coming to the floor on either side of the daís where a throne sat (for when it was needed).

The servants outside the door bowed to him (even if he wished they wouldn’t), and he bowed in return. The man on the right gave three knocks, and they opened the doors ever so slightly. There was a clearing of a throat and the tapping of a staff from the other side. The sounds of music and chatter faded away, and Victor took a deep breath.

“Presenting, his Royal Highness, Prince Victor!”

The doors were pulled open, assaulting Victor with a wave of cheers and applause and the occasional whistle. He flashed his photo-ready smile and waved, letting the noise die down before he descended the stairs into the ballroom proper. Chris met him at the bottom, passing him a glass of champagne. His best friend and fellow prince wore an emerald green ensemble that made his eyes pop, complete with rhinestones.

“I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to drag you down,” Chris teased. “You were taking long enough.”

“Perfection takes time. You know that as well as I do.”

Chris laughed and the pair clinked glasses in a small toast before taking a sip.

The evening was stuffy, and Victor put a good bit of energy into making sure he didn’t look bored. And that he mingled and didn’t just stay glued to Chris’s side. He slipped in and out of groups to talk and exchange pleasantries, making sure no conversation was too short or too long or traveled into business territory. When he wasn’t talking, he stayed with Chris or annoyed Yura. Or both. Several times both, and Yura’s anger just made both royals laugh.

Still, it wasn’t what Victor wanted.

Initially, he’d wanted Chris to come over so they could hide in his suite or a sitting room or the game room or  _ somewhere _ and get drunk and play drunk video games. He’d wanted to invite Yuri too, if he had the courage to even offer and risk exposing himself. Since that option had been taken away, he had to adapt.

It wasn’t going well.

He wanted to dance and have fun, but no one caught his eye. Though Chris did tug him into an exaggerated waltz at one point. Chris had a knack for picking up on when Victor’s mood went south, and knowing how to pick it up.

“So, how is Emil?” Victor asked Sara Crispino. He and Chris had struck up a conversation with her while her brother was distracted. The Crispinos were excellent allies, and decent friends, but Michele was a bit...much sometimes. “I noticed he’s not here.”

“He’s got the flu, unfortunately,” Sara said. “He wasn't able to attend our gala last week because of it. Thankfully, he has a good court looking out for him and they’re keeping him in bed.”

“And you know this how?” Chris asked.

“Because he calls Mickey almost everyday.”

“That sounds like Emil.”

Victor allowed a small chuckle with the others as his eyes darted to the main entrance. A new trio of guests, stragglers most likely, had just been announced to polite applause, but he wasn’t really paying too much attention. The snowflakes present on the two ball gowns and the man’s suit was enough to make him lose interest.

_ No one has any originality, _ he thought.  _ It would be nice if some more people didn’t latch on to the whole Winter Prince thing for once. _

Victor looked up again as the heralder tapped his staff, but this time he couldn’t look away. The black and red was absolutely striking, especially against the man’s skin tone and his slicked back black hair. Even from where he stood, Victor could see how the jacket clung to him, emphasizing how slim he was. It was like it had been made for him. He couldn’t stop staring.

“Presenting, Sir Eros, of Hasetsu,” the heralder called. A few people applauded in welcome, and then went back to their conversations.

“Hasetsu? Where is that again?” Chris asked.

“Not sure,” Sara said. “I’ve never heard of it. What about you, Victor?”

He didn’t hear her. He was transfixed by this Eros guy, who held his head high as he came down the stairs with one hand on the railing. His steps were smooth and sure, his movements fluid.

It was like watching a god in motion.

Victor passed his champagne glass to Chris. “Hold this.”

“Wha—Victor? Where are you going? Victor!”

Victor ignored him, crossing the room with easy and confident strides, even as his heart was pounding. Eros was magnetic, his presence still drawing the eye of many in the room.

Or maybe that was Victor’s doing by approaching him like this.

Not that it mattered either way.

They met at the bottom of the stairs. Victor tucked his left arm behind his back and his right across his torso. He bent forward in a deep bow. “Sir Eros,” he said. “I am Prince Victor Nikiforov. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He rose up, and the expression on Eros’s face could only be described as shock. But it didn’t last, his features morphing into a warm smile. He repeated Victor’s actions, a few loose pieces of his slicked back black hair falling forward to his forehead.

“The pleasure is all mine, your Grace,” he said. His voice was like melted honey, but familiar as well. Victor couldn’t place it, but it was beautiful.

He took Eros’s hand in his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss his knuckle. From this vantage, he had a perfect view of the man’s eyes behind his mask. They were a deep, warm brown, but the detailing in the mask brought out different shades of red that mixed in with the brown. He was looking right into a pool of melted chocolate and wine. It was beautiful.

“Dance with me,” he said, tugging the other’s hand.

“I would love to,” Eros said. “But surely, there are others here more deserving of a dance with you than me.”

“The one deserving is the one I chose. Right now, that is you.”

Victor could’ve swore that a blush darkened the tops of Eros’s face, but the mask made it difficult to truly see. Still, the other man flashed a bright smile and nodded.

“As you wish, your Highness.”

“Please. Call me Victor.”

Victor led them out to the middle of the dance floor as the band started up a smooth waltz. Good, he loved a decent waltz. He bowed to his partner, who did the same, and they took their positions; hands clasped, his right hand on Eros’s waist and Eros’s left on his shoulder. He took the first step and they began to glide around the floor.

Eros moved with precision, but also delicately. It was almost like his feet weren’t even touching the ground. Victor dared to try some more complex moves, awed when Eros followed easily. He didn’t trip once, even as their feet crossed at times.

“Do you dance often?” he asked. “You move easily. I think you’re the best partner I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you, your Hi—Victor,” Eros said. “I haven’t danced in a while, unfortunately, but I was taught from a young age and it’s something I do enjoy.”

“Really? What discipline?”

“I began in ballet. My teacher is excellent, and a family friend. She’s the equivalent of a prima in my country.”

“Wow! Forgive me for being slightly envious. Have you studied ballroom as well?”

“Not formally. I’ve taken a class here and there for fun, but I would hardly consider myself an expert.”

“Allow me to formally disagree. You’re absolutely incredible.”

Eros ducked his head down, just slightly. “Thank you. I take that as high praise.”

“As you should.”

The music shifted, the lilt of the waltz shifting into a slower time. The energy in the room lowered with the notes and tone of the violins and cellos. The flutes grew softer, and an oboe hummed to life; or, at least, Victor heard it for the first time. It’s sound was warm and invited more pairs to join them on the dance floor. He slowed their steps, experimentally pulling Eros closer for the slow dance. He took the lack of protest as a good thing.

“So, tell me, Sir Eros of Hasetsu,” he said, dropping his voice down to a near whisper. It would be rude if his voice broke the moment by being louder than the music. “What brings you here tonight?”

Eros stared at him incredulously, cocking his head to the side like a curious puppy after a beat. “You mean besides the obvious?” he asked, those wine-and-chocolate eyes running over him.

If Victor wasn’t used to being eyed, he might have had the dignity to blush. Might have.

Instead, he simply chuckled. “Besides the obvious, yes,” he said. “If you have a reason beyond that. It’s fine if you don’t. I’m simply curious.”

“Hm, well...you are perceptive,” Eros said. “Because I do have another reason.”

“Oh?”

Eros gave a singular nod. “I came here looking for someone,” he admitted.

“Someone special?”

“Yes.”

There was a flutter in Victor’s chest at the way Eros looked at him. A flash of confidence and determination was in his eyes, and he held his head high, like he was presenting himself. But then it was gone, and he didn’t seem like anything had happened. Maybe it was just Victor’s imagination.

“Would you like help looking for them?” Victor offered. “I like to consider myself a bit of a hopeless romantic. I’d consider it an honor to help you find this special someone.”

“Thank you, but I’ll pass,” Eros said.

“Why?”

Eros’s nose crinkled up in confusion. Why was that familiar?

“I’d feel rude to have you do something like that when you’ve taken the time to dance with me,” the shorter man said, his hand shifting on Victor’s shoulder so it was resting more towards his chest. Victor responded in kind, sliding his hand from Eros’s side to the middle of his back.

“It’s not rude if I’m offering,” Victor responded. “If anything, I would feel rude by keeping you away from this person.”

“They don’t exactly know I’m here, either.”

Victor frowned, now confused himself.  _ Why wouldn’t he want this person to know? _ he wondered.  _ I’d want someone to know I was looking for them. Granted, if that someone was Yuri, I don’t know what I’d do. I still can’t come up with the courage to tell him who I am. I’d probably hide if he actually showed up tonight. _

“It’s sort of a secret admirer situation,” Eros added quickly. “It’s better if they don’t know. I don’t even know if they came, anyway.”

“So, you took a shot in the dark.”

“I felt like I needed to. A shot in the dark has a better chance of hitting  _ something _ than not firing at all.”

Victor had to admit, Eros had a good point. He probably should take that advice himself. It was a shame he was too much of a coward.

No. No, he wasn’t a  _ coward _ . He was...optimistically cautious. That’s what it was.

“Can I ask you something?” Victor said.

“Of course.”

“Does coming here tonight, even without knowing if this person you're looking for is here…do you feel like you’re getting something out of it? That there’s a benefit for you if you don’t find them?”

He watched as Eros bit one side of his lip in thought. His eyes never left Victor’s, but they did get just a bit distant and his pupils dilated a tad. The man stayed quiet for a couple minutes, long enough for the music to shift. Victor guided them into the proper dance so they wouldn’t stick out in the crowd anymore than they were. Eros followed the shift as easily as breathing, even with his focus taken away from his feet.

He was a marvel.

“I’m not sure I can quantify anything as a benefit, exactly,” he finally said. “There are things I want to happen, sure. I definitely came here not knowing what would happen. The way I see it, three things could happen. One, I come and nothing happens. It’d be disappointing, but not necessarily bad. Two, I come and, somehow, get everything I want. That’s the happiest ending. Or three, I come and get shot down and leave completely crushed. It’s the option I didn’t want to consider, but had to recognize.

“But, even so, I guess I could say the real benefit is knowing I tried. Even if things go badly and I get rejected, I still came. I’m still here, putting myself out there for whatever may come.”

Victor gave a nod. “I can understand that. You have the satisfaction of knowing you did what you needed to, and you aren’t relying on someone else to do it for you.”

“Exactly. You said that much better than I did.”

“Nonsense, you were perfectly eloquent,” Victor praised. “And for the record, we may have only just met, but anyone would be a fool to reject you.”

The apples of Eros’s cheeks grew red, making the detailing on his mask pop. He even spluttered for half a second. Victor found it amusing and quite endearing.

_ Reminds me of when Yuri did that when we met… _

No. No no and no. He mentally slapped himself. Eros wasn’t Yuri, and this man deserved his full attention for now. If Yuri showed up later, he could think about him then.

“Thank you,” Eros finally mumbled. “That’s...you’re too kind.”

“I’m just being honest, really.”

“That just makes it more flattering!”

Victor just laughed at that. Handsome, talented, intelligent, and humble. Eros had a lot going for him. It also helped that he was good company, and seemed to be in a similar situation to Victor himself.

Which gave him an idea. Was it a wise idea? He didn’t know. But an idea nonetheless.

“Would you care to step outside with me?” he asked. “I’d like to talk with you more without the risk of someone dancing too close and overhearing us. If that’s alright? I know you have other plans than spending all evening with me.”

“No, I’d be honored,” Eros said. “I'm enjoying myself with you.”

There was a small lilt in his voice, a fondness in the tone. He didn’t understand it, but it caused Victor’s heart to do a backflip.

“As am I.” He pulled away from the dance and offered his arm to his companion. He waited for a gloved hand to slide into the crook of his elbow before he started walking. “Right this way.”


	14. Chapter 14

This was not going how Yuri planned. At all.

Okay, so he knew he should’ve expected the heralding. He’d seen enough cheesy dramas about royalty to be pretty sure that was an actual thing that existed. He was just grateful he could come up with an alias on the fly like he had.

But picking the name of a mythological god of love, and one associated with lust? Not his best move. Damn Leo and his stupid mythology course and damn himself for agreeing to help him study.

It was fine, though. No one seemed to care and he could breathe easy.

Until Victor  _ fucking _ Nikiforov walked over to him.

Until he, the prince,  _ bowed _ to him.

Until he asked him to dance.

The fact that he was even conscious was a miracle itself.

This was  _ not _ what was supposed to happen.

He had planned on coming and sticking to the sidelines. Maybe sip on a glass of champagne and observe Victor from afar.  _ If _ he got up the courage, maybe he’d approach him and talk to him. He’d take his mask off and show Victor he came, that he was okay with Victor being who he was.

Because he was. He had questions, sure, and he wanted answers. But he liked Vitya, a lot, and him being Prince Victor Nikiforov didn’t bother him.

And then Victor had to go and throw his plans out the window.

It felt like he was having an out of body experience. Or maybe his brain had finally just short circuited and his body was doing what he never could while it recovered.

How was he talking normally? How had he not had some kind of breakdown?

Every comment and every praise had him mentally screaming. His heart was racing and practically pounding out of his chest. His stomach was churning.

And yet, he was able to speak calmly and politely. Maybe too politely and too stiff, but Victor didn’t seem to mind.

Even with his mind freaking out on him, Yuri found Victor easy to talk to.

Even so, he avoided the opportunities presented to him.

“Someone special?”

_ You _ , he wanted to say.  _ I came for you, Vitya. I came because I want you. I’m here to see if you want me. Victor, it’s me. _

“Would you like help looking for them?”

_ I’ve already found him.  _ That’s what he should have said.  _ He’s right here, dancing with me. You’re the first person my eyes found. The only one I was looking for. _

But he didn’t. Instead, he let his anxiety speak for him. He said no and kept his secrets. He felt disappointed in himself for doing so. The whole reason he decided to come was to see and talk to Victor  _ as Victor  _ so he could stop dancing around him.

And yet...he still found a way to spill his heart out. Kind of. He was just answering a question, but it was a completely honest answer. He  _ hadn’t _ really expected anything to happen. He knew he’d be disappointed in himself if he didn’t approach Victor, but it would have been fine. At least he could say he tried.

He even had thought about what would happen if he’d approached Victor himself. If Victor had accepted him and been happy to see him, he’d be on top of the world. If not...well, he’d tuck his tail and leave in shame probably. He’d go home and lock himself in his and Phichit’s room and Phichit would take his phone and block Victor’s number for him “for his own good.”

_ That _ hadn’t happened yet, and while Yuri was grateful, he didn’t know what to do.

He wasn’t  _ supposed _ to draw Victor’s attention immediately. He wasn’t  _ supposed _ to be swept off his feet by the guy he was in love with while incognito.

Because he definitely was in love with him, even if he didn’t want to admit it to anyone. Not even himself, sometimes. Though,  _ that _ was partly due to the fact that he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his friend and crush was the same person as his idol and role model. It was something that he was pretty sure was lifted from a romcom. Things like this didn’t happen in real life, and they definitely didn’t happen to him.

Except it had.

And now here he was, letting Victor escort him out of this opulent ballroom with everyone watching. He was having a hard time breathing. He could feel the eyes on his back. He wanted to run or melt into the floor. He had to force himself to stay calm so he wouldn’t squeeze Victor’s arm too hard.

Yuri tried to focus on Victor instead of the stares. The prince’s body heat radiated off his side, and Yuri instinctually stepped closer to it as they moved outside into the December air. If Victor noticed, he didn’t say anything. He just kept walking, and Yuri adjusted his hand so it was resting more on Victor’s bicep than his elbow.

Victor led them out to a balcony, but then down some stairs into the palace gardens. Lingering snow clung to the hedges and bushes, but had been cleared from the pathways. A few flowers in shades of white and blue were poking up. Yuri wondered if they had been bred for this kind of weather, or if it was something natural. Solar lights lined the path, alternating sides every few feet to provide soft and even light in the dark. With the sky clear and the moon full, they were simply a nice addition rather than actual help seeing.

As they walked, Yuri kept glancing at Victor out of the corner of his eye. He hadn’t said a word since they’d left the ballroom. It could be easily mistaken for a comfortable silence, but Yuri could tell that wasn’t exactly the case.

Victor’s posture was relaxed and there wasn’t any tension in the muscle under Yuri’s hand. But, there was a tightness in his jaw and along his neck. He had a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Dealing with anxiety all of his life had made Yuri acutely aware of the slightest changes in a person’s body language and demeanor, and he could read them like a book.

Something was weighing heavy on Victor’s mind, but he didn’t want Yuri...no. He didn’t want  _ Eros _ to know. Not yet.

The path split off, and they followed the left fork into an even more secluded part of the gardens. Yuri gently bit on his lip. Victor was putting an awful lot of trust in someone he just met. Was this something he normally did? It couldn’t be safe for someone in his position to just run off with a stranger. Was he that willing to take the risk for a conversation? Did he just have a good sense about people? It wouldn’t be surprising; Yuri supposed you had to have that to lead a country.

Or...did he know? Did he know that the person beneath the black and red mask was Yuri? Had he realized and was taking him off to talk privately? Was he going to scold him for sneaking in? Did he not like Yuri invading this part of his life? Was he—

No. He couldn’t let his mind get the better of him. If he did, this all would be worth nothing. He drew in a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly. He listened to their sounds of their shoes on the stones, the wind blowing through the hedges and trees, the silence as they moved farther away from the building. It helped to ground him and kept him from thinking.

Eventually, they rounded a curve and Yuri’s breath caught in his throat. Before them was the most beautiful fountain he’d ever seen. It wasn’t overly large, like the one in the main square in the city, but it was bigger than the one in the hot spring back home. The three tiers were carved from granite, the water flowing between them in careful falls evenly spaced around the edges of the pools. The top tier held two angels, embracing each other with their wings spread wide. The larger angel held an umbrella in one hand, water spraying just enough from the tip that it slid down the sides like pouring rain. The angels stayed dry as the water cascaded down into the pools below. The pools themselves were lined with shining tiles, while the edges had filigree delicately embossed on the granite.

The fountain was surrounded by flowers on all sides, which danced in the wind. The sounds from the palace were gone out here, leaving just the noise of flowing water. The only other structure was a lone bench across the stones the fountain sat on.

“You like it?” Victor asked, his tone amused.

Yuri immediately nodded before looking up at the man beside him. Victor’s hair shone in the moonlight, and the sparkle on his mask made his eyes impossibly blue and bright.

“It’s beautiful,” he said. “Absolutely beautiful.”  _ You’re beautiful… _

Victor grinned, his heart shaped one that made Yuri’s heart flutter, and stepped towards the bench. “My father gave it to my mother as a wedding gift,” he explained as he sat them down. “He wanted something to show her that he’d always care for her, even when times were hard. But, he had a flair for the dramatic, so he had this installed instead of buying her jewels or something more superficial.”

“Dramatic or not, he must have loved her greatly to create this,” Yuri said.

“He did.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Everyday.”

Silence fell between them, and Yuri didn’t want to be the one to break it. The death of the king and queen was a tough subject for all of Rostelecom; he learned that when he moved here. The country held a day of mourning even now. He couldn’t blame them. King Artur and Queen Natalia had been among the most respected leaders in the world. The accident that took their lives shocked everyone. He couldn’t have imagined what it was like for Victor to have his parents one day, and then be an orphan the next. And that was  _ without _ the pressure of royalty and lineage and succession on his shoulders. How could a nine-year-old even process something like that?

Yuri reached between them and took Victor’s hand in his own. He gave it a firm squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

They went quiet again, both of them watching the fountain and listening to the sound of falling water. Yuri noticed that Victor didn’t pull his hand away. He didn’t mind. Even with the situation, it made his heart flutter. He’d like to have something like this all the time; just to be able to sit with Victor and hold his hand and enjoy his company. He wanted to lean over and rest his head on his shoulder. But he couldn’t. Not yet. As far as he knew, Victor thought he was a stranger. He shouldn’t push his boundaries, not while masked.

“I guess you’re probably wondering why I brought you out here,” Victor finally said, his eyes shifting over to Yuuri.

“Well, I had a feeling it wasn’t just to look at a fountain,” Yuuri replied. Victor chuckled, and the sound made his lip twitch up. “Though, if it was, I wouldn’t mind. It’s a very nice fountain.”

“I’m glad you like it. But, no, it wasn’t for the fountain. It’s just quiet and secluded out here. No one to overhear or bother us.”

Yuuri nodded in understanding. He kept his eyes on Victor, watching emotions flicker through his eyes. Victor really had expressive eyes. He may be able to hide his expressions, but the emotions in his eyes? That was his tell. Currently, they were moving between worried and nervous.

“I...wanted your opinion on something,” Victor finished.

“My opinion? What for?”

“Because something you said made me think about something. And it came off as brave. I think you’re brave and that you’re smart. Not to mention, impartial to the dilemma I’m having.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but I’m not brave,” Yuuri said. Him? Brave? Not really. He’d been using up a lot of energy to keep himself from shaking every moment he’d been with Victor tonight. If Victor knew how badly anxious he was, he wouldn’t think he was anything close to brave.

“You are though. You came here with a goal in mind, not knowing what would happen or if it would go your way. I think that’s pretty brave. I would’ve been terrified.”

“You? Terrified?”

Victor nodded. The prince tilted his head back, gazing up at the stars. “I’m not always as confident as I seem. Don’t let looks deceive you. There’s a lot that most people don’t know.”

“Because you have to keep an image.”

“That, and safety concerns too. Though, that is more my uncle’s worry than mine.”

“Your uncle?”

“Yakov.”

“Oh.” Well...that explained a lot of the complaining Victor did during some of their text conversations. “I didn’t realize you were related.”

“We’re not.” Victor shifted his eyes over to Yuuri and smiled a little. “He’s my godfather. I’ve just called him “Uncle” since I was a kid.”

“How does he handle that?”

“Fine. He’s not as grumpy as he seems. Unless I’m getting into trouble.”

“Does it happen often?”

“For the sake of my reputation, I’m going to say no.”

“Is that a lie?”

“Maybe.”

The words combined with Victor’s playful smirk made Yuri laugh, and laugh hard. A belly shaking, lung hurting laugh. He heard Victor laugh too, and it was music to his ears. He’d almost forgotten what his laugh sounded like.

They went quiet and leaned back against the bench. Their hands were still clasped between them. Victor’s hand was warm and strong, but also gentle. It was nice.

“Anyway,” Yuri said once he’d caught his breath. “You were saying?”

“Right.” Victor cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter. “You are brave, and I’d be terrified. I know because I...kind of am in the same boat.”

A knot formed in Yuri’s stomach, twisting and turning and squeezing in ways that made him sure he’d either explode or be sick. He didn’t. But it felt like he could. Was Victor really talking about—no. No, he couldn’t assume that. It could have nothing to do with  _ that _ at all.

Still…

“You’re having relationship troubles?” he asked, deciding to tease a little. “Who would’ve thought that the world’s most eligible bachelor would experience that?”

The tease did it’s job and made Victor quirk a small smile. “Are you surprised, Eros?”

“Just a little, and more than a little amused.”

“Guess I have to allow it.” Victor chuckled softly before he fell somber again. “It comes with the territory, though. It’s...hard to let too many people close to me. Even among other royals, someone either wants something from me, or doesn’t understand me. I don’t want to get hurt, nor do I want to hurt anyone else. Casual dating is nice and all, but something more serious is—“

“Intimidating?”

“Yeah. That’s a good word for it.”

Yuri nodded. He felt similar at times, though that was an anxiety issue. He’d never dated at all because of that. It was partially why he kept trying to deny how he felt towards the man sitting beside him. “Are you seeing someone now?”

“Technically, no. We’re just friends, right now.”

“Do you want it to be something more?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

The knot tightened in Yuri’s gut, but his heart fluttered at the same time.  _ Is this really about me? Us? But what if it’s not? What if this is someone else? Did I ever have a chance? I’m a fool if I thought I did. But maybe I do? Does Victor Nikiforov really think of me in that way? _

Yuri dry swallowed, forcing his thoughts down so he could stay calm. “So...what exactly is the issue? Just being afraid to get too close to him? Or her. Sorry, I’m not trying to assume.”

“No, it’s fine. They are  _ he _ .” Victor let out a long breath, blowing the air out between his lips slowly. His back was tense, his shoulders rigid.

_ He’s really nervous and worried about this,  _ Yuri noted. It made his heart ache. He’d only known Victor a short time, and had never really seen him this vulnerable. Never as a prince, for sure, but also not as Vitya in their conversations.

“I am a little concerned about getting close to him,” Victor continued. “But not for the reasons you’d think. I’ve never gotten a vibe from him that he’s some kind of gold digger, and he...he does understand me, I think. And I understand him. Our conversations are great. I always look forward to them.”

Yuri nodded once, but didn’t interrupt. Partly to not be rude, but also because he was afraid of what would come out of his mouth.

“And I know, it sounds great. And it  _ is _ . He’s fantastic, our friendship is fantastic. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered taking it further. I really like him. But he’s... he’s a commoner and I’m... _ me.” _

“I don’t claim to be an expert on the law, but last time I checked, it’s not forbidden for a royal to marry a commoner,” Yuri said. “But, I can understand if you’re afraid of the judgement. I can’t begin to imagine the standards you’re—“

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is?”

Victor pushed his fingers back through his hair. He stared off towards the fountain, his brow furrowed and his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Yuri gently squeezed his hand. The action seemed to relax the prince and he lowered his hand from his hair.

“I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Take it one word at a time. Don’t try to rush through it. Take a second to think if you have to.”

The prince nodded and closed his eyes behind his mask. Yuri watched him, taking in the way his Adam’s apple stuck out from his neck and his strong jawline. He observed the way Victor’s shoulders rose when he took a deep breath, and how they relaxed when he let it out. The cold breeze blew his hair across his forehead, and Yuri had to resist the urge to brush it back into place. He clenched his gloved hand into a fist, shivering just a little as the air cut through his suit jacket.

Victor finally let out a long breath, opening his eyes again and staring straight ahead. His jaw was tight and Yuri could feel his fingers trembling, just the tiniest of bits. He gave his hand a squeeze, and smiled when Victor looked over. The corner of the prince’s lips twitched upward before he spoke again.

“I haven’t told him I’m the prince and I don’t know how or if I even want to.”

The words came out fast, almost falling over each other and blurring together. They stared at each other, both of their eyes wide behind their masks. Victor’s eyes were a storm of nerves and worry and anticipation and a dash of sadness. Yuri opened his mouth, only to close before he could speak. The last thing he wanted to do was say the wrong thing, and with his state of mind he easily could.

His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure it would jump out of his chest. Or out of his throat in the form of vomit.  _ Victor _ had feelings for  _ him _ . And he was about to get the answer he’d been looking for for the last month. His stomach twisted into a hard knot. He had to think very carefully before he said anything.

“Well...uh...why don’t you want him to know?” he asked, praying his voice wasn’t shaking. “I...I need to know that before I can form an opinion.”

“It’s...a lot of things,” Victor said. His fingers gripped Yuri’s tight and he bit on his bottom lip. Yuri never thought he’d ever see  _ Victor _ of all people look as nervous as he felt sometimes. “I don’t...telling him is going to drag him into my world, and I don’t know if he wants that at all. And the royal life is a lot of politics and rules and standards and niceties that he’s probably never dealt with and if I want anything serious with him, he’ll be thrown head first into it and it just feels cruel to me.

“And even if all that  _ didn’t  _ matter, I don’t know if he’ll even like me. The real me. What if he only likes the...normal guy? What if he doesn’t want anything to do with the prince part of me? It’s not something I can just give up. There are people depending on me. This whole  _ country  _ is depending on me. My role and my birthright come with me and I have no idea if he’d be willing to take that on. And what if he’s mad that I wasn’t up front and told him? I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t want to get hurt either.”

Victor’s voice was trembling when he finished, his eyes wide and pleading behind his golden mask. Yuri’s heart ached in his chest; he hated seeing Victor so worked up and upset like this. He didn’t need to be. Yuri wanted him, and everything that came with it. He had just wanted to know why Victor didn’t tell him, and now he did and he  _ understood.  _ God, he understood.

He turned so he was fully facing Victor. He wrapped his free hand around the other’s, so he was holding it in both of his, and squeezed it.

“You should tell him,” he said, his lips curling up just a little. He felt bad for Victor, but he was also so  _ damn happy _ . This is what he’d come here for. This is what he’d  _ wanted _ .

He really needed to thank his friends for forcing him to come later.

“But—“

“If he’s as amazing as you act like he is, you have nothing to worry about, Victor,” Yuri said. “How could he say no to you? Trust me, telling him is the  _ best  _ thing you’ll ever do.”

Icy blue eyes stared at him, wide and searching. “How can you possibly know that? You don’t even know how your own situation is going to turn out. How can you know that telling him is smart?”

“Because I understand more than you think I do. I get your position, as well as the other side. Just  _ trust me _ Victor. You need to tell him and he’ll accept you with open arms. I  _ promise _ .”

Victor shook his head and grabbed Yuri by his shoulders. “You can’t know that!” he protested. “I want to believe you’re right. But you can’t possibly—“

“You said my person would be a fool to reject me,” Yuri said. “You said it with confidence. I have that same confidence about this. You need to believe me.”

“ _ Why?? _ ”

“Because, this guy of yours is—“

The gong of the palace clock tower stopped Yuri’s voice in his throat. Even Victor was frozen, the pair staring at each other as the chimes rang out across the gardens and over them.

“Shit…” Yuri swore under his breath as the twelfth chime rang out. He hadn’t realized it was that late. He’d missed curfew.

He pulled himself away from Victor’s grasp. “I have to go,” he said, already on his feet and turning to go back the way they came. He took a step, but was yanked back. He glanced back, seeing Victor on his feet as well, his hand wrapped around his wrist.

“No. No you can’t act like  _ that _ and then rush off.”

“Victor, let me go.”

“ _ No _ . Tell me what you were going to say, Eros. Now.”

“I have to go!”

“And I said no!”

Yuri glared at Victor and tugged on his arm, trying to pull out of his grip. “Look, I want to stay, but I  _ can’t.  _ You don’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Just let me go. Please.”

“Not until I have my answer!”

“Stop being stubborn!” Yuri turned away and tried to walk away, jerking his arm. Victor’s grip slipped a little, but his fingers still hung onto something.

“Eros,  _ please _ —“

“Let me go, Vitya!”

He jerked his arm again, not even realizing his slip of the tongue, and felt a pop before his hand slid free. He started running back up the path, ignoring Victor’s yelling behind him. He reached an intersection and peeled off in the direction opposite of the ballroom. The path took him back to the front of the palace and he hopped onto the trolley back into town as it was pulling off. His breath came in sharp, foggy pants as he sat down. As they pulled off, he thought he could see Victor coming around, but he was just a silver and pink blob. Yuri had to turn away, clutching as his chest as his heart hammered away.

_ Why did I run? I could’ve just told him right then. But curfew… _

With a groan, he hung his head in his hands. What was he doing? So what if he missed curfew? It’d just be a few extra chores around the boarding house at some point, it wasn’t a big deal. Another five minutes wouldn’t have mattered, not really. He should’ve just stayed. He should’ve finished his thought and told Victor who he was. He’d come so close. He could’ve given them both everything they were wanting.

But he didn’t. He hated being late, and his anxiety always made him panic when he was. And here it had stripped him away from the one person he wanted.

A shiver ran through him as the cold air whipped through the open trolley, and Yuri realized he’d left his coat behind. Not that he could go back for it now; the trolley was already pulling into the city again. Oh well. It wasn’t his every day coat anyway, it was fine. He could handle a chill.

The trolley pulled to a stop on Yuri’s street and he hopped off, along with a few others who had left the party. He could feel their eyes on him, and hear their whispers.

“Isn’t he the guy Prince Victor singled out?”

“Yeah, they vanished for a while too.”

“Do you think they—“

“No way. He wouldn’t be here if they had.”

“Probably got his heart broken.”

“Royals are playboys.”

Yuri shoved his hands in his pockets and walked as fast as he could away from the stop and the gossip mongers. He didn’t want to hear their pity, or their judgement. He definitely didn’t want their questions. They were wrong about him, and wrong about Victor. They didn’t know what happened between him and Victor, and they didn’t deserve to, either. That was between them, and them alone.

Not that he really knew what to do, now. He couldn’t turn and go back. He’d look like a fool. And what if Victor was mad at him? He’d left without explaining anything. And if people had noticed them together, he had probably embarrassed him by having him go back into that party alone and confused.

He’d really screwed this up.

He turned the corner and moved up the walk to the house, tearing his mask off as he went. Some of his hair pulled free with the elastic band, falling down against his forehead and over his ears. He climbed the stoop and leaned against the door, drawing in deep breaths. His heart was starting to race again, and he really didn’t want a panic attack right now.

The next breath he took, he held, and then released it, counting to ten so he didn’t rush through it. It grounded him enough so he could open the door and step inside. The house was quiet, only the sound and feel of the heat greeting him. Yuri silently shut the door and crept up the stairs to the third floor so he wouldn’t wake anyone. He was surprised Celestino didn’t come say something, but the Florentine man may have been asleep already. Sometimes he passed out before the curfew time. If that was the case, Yuri had gotten lucky. Still, he made a mental note to take on some extra chores the next few weeks. Otherwise, the guilt may eat him alive.

The third floor was dark, something Yuri was grateful for. He’d been afraid someone may wait up for him, even though he told his friends not too. They didn’t need to, not with their own exams and projects and stress. He removed his shoes and shuffled across the floor in sock feet to his and Phichit’s room. He didn’t even bother to turn the light on when he entered, moving to his bed by feel and memory.

“Yuri?” Phichit’s voice was gruff and groggy.

“Yeah. Sorry, I was trying not to wake you.”

“It’s fine.” Phichit yawned and clicked on the lamp in his bedside table before sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “How’d it go?”

Yuri unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat on the edge of his bed. He bit his lip gently. “Better than I expected I guess,” he said. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“Wanna talk about it? I can pull out my list of questions.”

“Of course you have a list…”

“I wanted to be prepared!”

Yuri just rolled his eyes and shrugged his jacket off. “Maybe tomorrow,” he said, removing his gloves. “I need to sleep on it.”

“Okay.” Phichit reached over to turn the lamp off, only to pause and look back at Yuri. “You sure it went well?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you about it later, I promise,” Yuri said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Kay. Night, Yuri.”

“Night.”

Phichit cut the lamp off and rolled back over. It only took a few seconds for Yuri to hear his best friend’s soft snores. He wished he had the talent to pass out at will like that.

Yuri started to undress the rest of the way, pausing on the last button of his shirt. He probably should take his watch off first, so it didn’t catch on his sleeve or anything. He slid his fingers down to his left wrist, searching for the clasp. He only found skin.

_ Did I wear it on my right? _

He repeated the motion on his right arm, a stone sitting in his gut.

It wasn’t there.

His watch was gone.

_ Shit! _


End file.
